


Cardinal Sins

by Bardothren



Category: RWBY
Genre: Action/Adventure, Drama, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-02
Updated: 2019-10-18
Packaged: 2019-10-20 20:42:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 44
Words: 187,484
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17629328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bardothren/pseuds/Bardothren
Summary: Cardin had regarded blackmail as his most powerful and most humorous weapon, but when he learned Blake's hidden identity, he found it a sword with no hilt. Seemingly innocuous decisions founded on her secret led him to Dust robberies, feminine grudges, hordes of Grimm, back-alley brain surgery, broken hearts, and a shadow war with Remnant's deadliest terrorist.





	1. Initiation

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone. If you have no idea who I am, I started off with Pokémon fanfiction and decided try something in the RWBY fandom. If you followed me from my previous work, thanks for giving this a shot.
> 
> I don’t intend to spoil much about this story, save that my goal is to accomplish two things: first, to make Cardin a more interesting and dynamic character more involved in the story. Second, to have his presence change the outcome – after all, it wouldn’t be that interesting if everything panned out the same, now would it?
> 
> 10-18-19: It has recently come to my attention that the work is regarded as complete, even though it is, in fact, an ongoing project, and that this fact may be of some irritation to anyone reading. For whatever reason, when I first posted this work on AO3, it didn't give me the option of marking this as an incomplete work, that, or I'm an idiot and marked it complete by accident. In any event, the attempts to rectify this haven't gotten me anywhere, including the attempt I made just now, so it's stuck like that. Up until this point, no one had commented on it or messaged me about it, so I shrugged my shoulders and left it alone and eventually forgot about it, but now that someone has expressed displeasure at the mislabeling of this story, I've gone ahead and posted this at the start for anyone just getting into the story.
> 
> So, yes, to any new readers, this story may say it's complete, but it is, in fact, an ongoing series, posting every Tuesday and Friday. You've been warned. I will remove this notice once the story is complete, which may take a few months.
> 
> Happy reading to all of you. If you see anything else that is causing any irritation, please let me know.

The scroll in Cardin’s hand felt heavy as a brick. On its hard-light Dust display, a radar swept itself in a circle, and with each pass of the glowing line, three green dots lit up on the blue grid-marked background, scattered to his right. Off to the left, he heard gunshots and the screams of dying Grimm.

Bushes rustled in front of him. His heart froze in his chest, and he looked away, to the right.

“Is anyone in there?” he asked. His hand hovered over the hilt of his mace. Its ten black flanges converged around an empty Dust vial.

In response came a low, rumbling growl. A Beowolf sauntered into the clearing. Red eyes glowed behind its ivory mask, and its pitch-black hide swallowed up the light. It gnashed its teeth and rushed at him.

Cardin chuckled at himself. Holding his scroll in his left hand, he unlimbered his mace. He let the Beowolf close in, sidestepped past its long, groping arms, and slammed his mace into its chest. It rolled back and slammed against a tree. The bony protrusions in its back jammed into the trunk. Cardin walked over to it, swinging his mace in his hand, as the Grimm struggled to free itself. It howled, but Cardin cut the cry short with a blow to the head. Its skull crunched beneath the head of his mace. Black smoke hissed from the creature as it vanished.

Cardin returned to the center of the clearing. A wall of trees stood on all sides of him. Each gust of wind hinted at more Grimm rushing to the Beowolf’s call. He glanced down at his scroll. Two dots had paired up and were moving further into the Emerald Forest, while the third had moved closer to him.

The screams and gunshots to the left faded away in his ears. With a scowl at his scroll, he set it on the ground. Stomp once, blame the Beowolf for breaking his scroll, and claim he got turned around by all the trees, that’s all it would take to make his own decision for once. Maybe he’d find Nikos, or Schnee, or the quiet dark-haired chick.

Or maybe he’d find the blonde, screaming idiot, or that tiny chick moaning into her hood. How she was seventeen and barely came up past his waist, he had no idea. Or, he thought, swallowing reflexively, Yang Xiao Long.

Leaves rustled overhead. He glanced up and caught a black blur darting from branch to branch. Yellow eyes flashed in the sunlight as a pale face glanced back at him. A cry rose up in his throat, his arm itched to leap up and wave.

Smothering the impulse, Cardin picked up his scroll and turned away. He heard the Huntress vanish into the woods, and once again, he was all alone. Telling himself that it was for the best, that it wasn’t worth the risk, he went towards the dot. 

“Hey, Cardin! What took you?”

Standing on a branch just ahead of him, Russel waved with a dagger in his hand. His green hair drooped to one side, and his green hoodie was torn on one sleeve. He dropped, stuck the blade into the tree, and swung himself in front of Cardin.

“I take it Sky and Dove are heading to the Temple?”

“Yep. Sky thought he saw it on the way down, a circle of gray pillars east of those mountains.”

Cardin glanced around the forest. “Good. We better move. I took out a Beowolf, but not before it called for help.”

Russell went pale and shot nervous glances at the surrounding brush. “They’re not too big, right?”

“You’ll be fine. Let’s go.” 

Russell darted off, and Cardin went after him. The smaller student wove in between the branches and thorns while Cardin slammed through them. Vines snagged at his feet, and leaves slipped out from under him. Within a mile, sweat ran down his shoulders and his breath burned in his throat.

“Damn it, school tracks don’t have this much shit in them,” Cardin puffed. Russell turned back. His sleeves were torn to shreds, and his hood had disappeared, but he had not a scratch on him.

Russell chuckled. “Tell me about it. My Aura’s taking a beating from all these branches.”

Cardin rapped his breastplate with his gauntlets. “Maybe I should go first, clear the way for you. That way, you won’t be stripped nude by the time we get to the temple.”

Russell looked down at his hoodie and swore under his breath. “Yeah, that sounds good. Let me know if you run into an Ursa, okay?”

Holding his mace in front of his head, Cardin marched forward, trampling brush and snapping branches in his wake. Springier branches swiped at him, but his armor took the brunt and his Aura covered the rest. By the time they made it to the temple, Cardin’s armor was plastered with wet leaves and bits of twigs.

Dove had his sword drawn and was wiping bits of bark off the blade, while Sky stretched with his halberd over his head. They each had a knapsack over one shoulder. When Sky saw him, he waved and called out a greeting. Dove glanced up, sheathed his sword, and ran a hand through his sandy-colored hair.

Sixteen stone pillars were arranged in a circle within the temple. On each was a chess piece, pairs of bishops, rooks, knights, and queens in both colors.

“We’re the first ones here, huh?” Russell asked. “The rest must be lost, idiots.”

“They’re probably looking for partners,” Dove said. He held up his scroll. “We got to skip a step.”

Sky walked up to the black pieces. “So, you’re sure the Relics don’t matter? Like, what if we got different missions or teachers, or something?”

Cardin walked over to the far side of the temple. Side by side were two slender bishops. He pocketed one and tossed the other to Sky.

“All that matters is we have a matching set,” Cardin said. “Now let’s move. That gunfire will lure the Grimm further west, so if we head east then south, we’ll have a clear path.” He took out his scroll and turned off the radar. A map of the Emerald Forest popped up, colored to mark tree density, altitude, and water. Three spots along the southern cliffs were highlighted.

“We’ll take the old stair here,” Cardin said, holding up the scroll so his team could see. His finger moved to a splash of blue further north. “At this pond, we can take a short break.”

His teammates nodded. Dove took point, while Cardin held the rear as they cleared a path to the pond. Halfway through their trek, a high-pitched scream made them turn.

“Sounds like a damsel in distress,” Russell said with a smirk. 

“You think the Professors will step in?” Sky asked. “You know, if we’re really in danger?”

Cardin scanned the treetops. He couldn’t see any cameras, but his shoulder blades itched from the sensation of being watched.

“Beacon’s reputation would be ruined if they let students die during initiation,” Cardin said. “Not to mention, they’d have fewer Hunters to work with. Just don’t expect them to fight the Grimm for you.”

Sky’s knuckles tightened on his halberd. “Right,” he muttered, “I can handle this.”

Dove swiped at a tangled thicket. A glittering blue pool lined with tiny pebbles appeared. Fallen, rotting logs lined the shore, torn up by countless claws.

“You got the water filter?” Cardin asked, nodding to Dove. 

Dove reached into his knapsack and took out a long, thin bottle. He screwed off the top, revealing a tube of powdered carbon infused with Fire Dust, and approached the pond.

A shadow stirred towards the center. Russell saw it, ran forward, and yanked Dove back by his backplate. 

“Feilong!” Sky shouted, darting back and pointing his halberd at the pond. The water frothed, and a long black shape shot up. A bony plate, marked with sinuous red lines, covered the top half of its head. Fins flared out around its neck. Its underbelly had bone plates smooth and lustrous as polished marble, and its hide was knit of minuscule black scales. 

The Feilong’s two legs dug into the pebbled shore, and it hauled itself out of the water. The Feilong’s wings stretched out, furls of thin red membrane stretched by slender lengths of black bone. Its mouth opened, revealing rows of jagged white teeth. Its roar shook the trees. 

Dove tripped, dropping the bottle and dragging Russell down with him. He brought up his sword and aimed the hilt’s hidden barrel at its face. Bullets glanced off the glowing bone on its head.

Sky’s halberd darted at an eye. The Grimm blinked and reared its head back. “The wings!” Sky said. “Aim for the wings Dove!”

Dove fired two more shots at the right wing. The Feilong screamed as the bullets tore holes through the membrane.

“What now Cardin?” Russell asked.

Cardin put away his mace. “We move. That thing’s going to bring more Grimm on top of us. Follow me!”

Branches whipped at his face and vines tangled his feet as he barreled through the undergrowth. His teammates sprinted right behind him. Russell panted and swore under his breath as he caught up with Cardin. Behind them, trees snapped as the Feilong smashed its way through their path. The Grimm’s frustrated growls and high-pitched whines receded as they ran further south.

The trees thinned out, and Cardin skidded to a halt a few paces from a ravine. Water gurgled fifty feet down. Bright red and brown lines of sandstone ran parallel along the far wall, twenty feet away. More trees grew on the other side, thick oaks with gnarled branches, and a boulder loomed over the far edge.

“Sky, the rope!” 

“On it!” Sky dug into his knapsack and yanked out a bundle of thin black cord. He spilled some Dust vials, packets of field rations, a portable scroll charger, and the black bishop. Russell scooped everything up and shoved them into his hoodie’s pockets. Meanwhile, Sky tied one end of the cord at the grip of his halberd and wrapped the other around a tree. With his left arm forward, Sky hefted the halberd, lunged, and threw. The halberd fell far short of the other side. The cord went taut as the halberd swung ten feet from the ravine’s bottom.

“Quit messing around, Sky,” Dove said. “It’s getting closer.”

“The rope’s weighing it down!” Sky said as he hauled up his halberd with shaking hands. “I can’t get a good throw.”

Cardin held out a hand, and Sky put the halberd in it. A shiver ran up Cardin’s arm as he activated his Semblance. The spear felt light as a feather in his hand. With a heave, the halberd raced through the air and buried itself in the ground on the other side. Sky yanked it, and the halberd pulled away.

“Aim for a tree!” Russell said. “That big one right there!”

“I’m working on it,” Cardin growled as he raised the spear again. A quick glance at his scroll showed his Aura at the three-quarters mark. It dipped a little lower when he threw it. This time, the spear buried itself in an oak two trees over from where he had been aiming. 

Russell gave the rope a tug and nodded. “Hold it for me, will you?”

Sky wrapped his arms around the tree and held the rope tight while Russell clambered across. When Russell was halfway to the other side, a red vial tumbled out of his hoodie. Blue and gray vials followed after. Russell swore and grabbed at them with one hand, but they slipped past his fingers. His clumsy grabs for them tore the pocket off his hoodie. The battery and food rations hit the river with a muted splash as Russell groaned into his arm.

Russell held the other side while Dove, then Sky crossed. The roars and crashes grew louder, and they could see the tree-line shift as the Feilong approached. Cardin’s heart raced as he took the rope. The tree behind him groaned under his weight, and his teammates strained to hold up him and his armor. Sweat slickened his hands, and a couple times, he dangled by his legs while he rubbed his palms on his shirt.

A crash echoed across the ravine as the Feilong broke through the trees, flapping hard to clear the ravine. Dove shot another volley, perforating its left wing. The Grimm roared and strained upwards, but it failed to rise. Fixing its yellow eyes on Cardin, it followed the rope back to the tree on its side of the ravine. It hissed as it braced its two legs against the tree and pushed. The tree groaned as its roots snapped, and with the rustle of leaves, it tumbled forward. Cardin clung to the rope as he was slammed against the far wall. His aura flared as the tree scratched at his back.

Glancing back, Cardin saw the Feilong bracing itself to jump. His eyes widened. He looked up at the top of the ravine and shouted, “Pull me up! Hurry!”

Cardin activated his Semblance. His armor felt lighter as the tingling sensation coursed through his arms, and he raced up the rope. Six pairs of hands appeared over the edge, scrambling to pull him up. The Feilong lunged, teeth snapping as it glided towards him.

His fingers dug into the ledge. Gripping down with Aura-protected hands, Cardin heaved and tumbled over the side. The Feilong slammed into the ridge just below his feet. With a roar, it tumbled down into the ravine. Wings caught in the walls, it glared up at them and thrashed its serpentine body.

“We better run!” Sky said. “More Grimm will be here any second!”

Cardin glanced at the boulder, which had tipped further forward. “We should take care of the Feilong first. It’ll keep calling Grimm, and it might find a way out.” He braced himself against it and pushed, but the rock refused to budge. With his Semblance activated, Cardin pushed harder, and the stone worked loose. As it tumbled over, the ground gave way beneath Cardin’s feet. He yelped as he slid forward. He threw one hand up, and another caught it.

Russell smiled down at him as he hauled him back up. “I know you’re heavy enough to crush that bastard, but I think the boulder’s got that covered.”

A thunderous boom split the air. Gouts of flame and flashes of snow drifted up from the ravine. Looking down, Cardin saw the Grimm vanish in a smoking crater.

Russell ruffled up his hair. “Damn it, there goes the Dust! Stupid hoodie!” He tore at the tattered sleeves, yanking off each one and throwing them into the ravine.

“Uh, guys?” Sky said. “That explosion’s going to bring a lot of Grimm here, so could we hurry?”

Dove opened up his hilt and refilled the chamber with bullets from his knapsack. He offered Cardin a bottle of Fire Dust, but he refused it.

“Shouldn’t be more than half a mile to the stairway,” Cardin said. “We better save the dust for another time.”

Dove scowled at Russell. “You just had to spill all that Dust, didn’t you?”

Russell pushed his shoulder. “Buzz off, I was just trying to get us across faster. Not my fault my pockets got torn to shreds back there.”

“Guys, stop yelling!” Sky said, moving in between them. “You’ll get us surrounded by Grimm!”

“Sky’s right.” Cardin started south and said over his shoulder, “We can worry about the Dust later.”

A roar rumbled through the forest, from the east. Sky shuddered, Dove groaned, and Russell swore into his torn hoodie.

“Russell, you got point,” Cardin said. “Shout if you run into anything.”

Russell sprinted off into the forest. Dove hacked a path after him, and Cardin held up the rear. Howls echoed around them, pressing closer with each step. From behind them, a Beowolf loped down their path, drooling as it gnashed its teeth. Dove pointed his sword behind him and fired a few shots. One caught the Grimm in the leg, and it tumbled forward. Two more replaced it. Cardin stopped, drew his mace, and caught both across the head with a single swipe.

Out from between the leaves, the cliff loomed over them. Sky cheered in relief, and the team sprinted through the last of the brush. They skidded to a halt once they hit the clearing at the cliff’s base.

“Ursa Major!” Sky shouted with a string of expletives.

A hulking, bear-like behemoth with razor-sharp claws and towering spikes on its back stood between them and the stair. Boulders and fallen trees littered the landscape around it.

“Dove, aim for its eyes! Russell, move in and hamstring it!”

Dove emptied his clip at the Ursa. It reared up on its hind legs and shielded its face with one paw. The other swiped out in front of it. Russell leapt over the attack, ducked beneath the Ursa’s legs, and brought out both of his knives. Each one bit deep into the Ursa’s hind legs as he passed. The Grimm bellowed and fell backwards. Russell rolled as it crushed a boulder where he had been. 

“Sky, pole-vault!”

Sky swallowed and sprinted forward, raising his halberd over his head. He brought the point down on the Ursa’s right paw and pushed himself into the air. As he rose over his weapon, Sky pulled the trigger in its shaft. A high-caliber round slammed out of the end of his halberd, smashing the paw to pulp. Sky flew over the Ursa’s back, landed on his feet, and tripped over a fallen tree.

Dove and Cardin ran past while the Grimm thrashed about. Motes of black dust wafted from the stump where its right paw had been. The Ursa glared at Cardin, and on three legs, it lumbered forward. The trees shifted ahead of its path, and Cardin stumbled when one branch caught him behind his knees. The Grimm leapt, and its good paw reached for him. Dove slashed at it and hauled Cardin onto his feet.

“Aren’t you going to kill it?” Dove asked as they ran to the stair.

“Our mission is to secure the relic. Killing Grimm would be a waste of our time.”

Dove shrugged. “As long as it gets us in, I’m fine with that.”

The stairs had been carved into the cliff-face, winding back and forth over itself. The steps were two feet wide, with no railing between them and a long fall onto the Ursa. Cracks split some steps, and others were slick with lichen. Beowolves and Ursa gathered at the bottom of the cliff, but none tried the stairs.

After two hours of climbing, they made it to the top. Beacon loomed in the distance, crowned by the early afternoon sun. Its ebony towers gleamed, and at its peak, the glowing green lights of the CCT beckoned like will-o-wisps.

A tall, thin man with large glasses, a mop of green hair, and a giant brown coat waited for them. “Gentlemen!” he shouted as Cardin and his teammates sat on the ground. His words came out in a high-pitched torrent, as if someone ran a recording of him at double speed. “I’ve been watching your progress from up here since you ran into that Feilong!” He waved a pair of binoculars and took a long swig from his thermos. “A most remarkable specimen, truly, but not as remarkable as your triumph over it. Luring it to disadvantageous terrain, disabling its means of flight, and finishing it off with a concentrated dose of dust. Flashy, but genius!”

He cleared his throat and zipped over to the cliff’s edge. He peered down at the seething mass of Grimm howling up at them. “Having said that, it’s considered poor form to leave a Grimm alive. They learn from their past mistakes and grow more dangerous the older they get. While I applaud your focus on your mission, I must ask that you remember that in the future. Now, let’s fix that, shall we?”

A handle telescoped out of his thermos. Flame spouted from the end where he had drank. The man swung the extended thermos overhead and swept it down at the Grimm. A large fireball shot out from it and slammed into the Grimm. The Ursa Major shrieked as its body burned to black motes.

“Now, gentlemen, I presume that you have the relics?”

Cardin took his black bishop out of his pocket and held it up. Sky went rummaging through his knapsack.

“Oh shit,” he said. “I know I had it in here!”

Russell tapped Sky on the shoulder. From the folds of his tattered hoodie, he dug out the missing black bishop. A frayed thread was looped around the top.

“The only thing that didn’t fall out of my pockets. Good thing it got tangled up in there, right?”

Dove stomped up to Russell, his face flushed. “Are you serious? You dropped our food, our battery, all our dust, and you nearly dropped the relic?”

“Hey, don’t blame me!” Russell shouted back. “Sky’s the one that let it fall out of his pack. You’re lucky I noticed it.”

His stomach sank as he watched the other bishop. Perhaps they would have had to go back down the cliffs and retrieve it, or maybe the professor would have let it slide, but the idea that two of his teammates might have failed right then and there filled him with a heavy melancholy. 

Cardin put a hand on each of their shoulders. “Knock it off. We can talk about this later.”

The two of them looked at the professor. He studied them for a moment, took out his scroll, and typed in some notes.

“Right!” The professor grinned and adjusted his glasses. “I guess you could say that you passed your initiation by a thread.”

Russell snorted, and Dove rolled his eyes. The professor waited for a more pronounced reaction, grimaced, and straightened his jacket.

“Now, gentlemen, I am Doctor Oobleck. Please try to remember that Doctor part, I didn’t go to grad school for fun.” He collapsed his thermos and took a long swallow. “Now, if you would follow me, you will be formally assigned into your teams at the school’s auditorium. After that, lunch shall be served in the cafeteria, and you shall have the rest of the evening to do as you wish. Do any of you have questions?”

Sky raised his hand. “What do you have in that thermos?” 

“Vacuan black. Nothing beats it. Do you have any pertinent questions?”

Cardin glanced at his teammates and shook his head.

“Excellent. Now, if you gentlemen would follow me, we are already twenty-six minutes behind schedule. I hope you can show more haste than you demonstrated in your climb up the cliffs. Let’s go!”

Cardin and his teammates were gasping for air by the time they arrived at Beacon. His stomach grumbled, and leaves dropped from his armor as they dried off. Doctor Oobleck ushered them to a back room of the auditorium. The other teams had already arrived and sat in clumps of four. 

Cardin and his teammates sat next to the door, in the last available space. Their weapons hit the floor with a clatter. Conversations buzzed around them, drowning out individual words. He caught a glimpse of long, golden hair and frowned. Next to her sat a black-haired girl with familiar yellow eyes.

Glancing at the groups next to him, Cardin leaned forward and asked Russell, “How’s your mom doing?”

Russell shrugged. “The docs say she’s going into remission, but they want her in for another round next week to be sure.” He looked Cardin in the eyes and said, “Your dad has it all covered.”

Cardin nodded and made a mental note to find out the hospital.

“Oh, and he says we’re not supposed to read for you.”

Cardin grunted sourly and turned to Sky. “What about you? Did your sister get in?”

Sky grinned. “A full scholarship too. They said they were really impressed with the letters of recommendation she had.” He paled, glanced at Russell, and asked, “What do you think would’ve happened if we lost the relic?”

Dove elbowed him hard in the ribs. As Sky hissed and rubbed his side, Cardin schooled his face to stony calm. Just another four years, he told himself, as he watched every move they made, marked each flicker of their eyes, and weighed every word they said.

“I’m sure it wouldn’t have been a big deal,” Russell said. “Not like they’ll kick us out because we dropped a chess piece.”

The door opened a crack, bumping into Cardin’s shoulder. A short, portly man with thick gray eyebrows and a bushy mustache looked down at them.

“Make your way to the stage, gentlemen. It’s time to begin.”

Cardin rose first and followed him out the door. His teammates filed in behind. The stage was polished stone. Black walls striated with copper lines rose fifty feet to a domed ceiling. In a hard-light display overhead, Cardin’s face, and that of his teammates, stared down at him. 

A sparse crowd filled the seats. Towards the back, Cardin caught sight of Dove’s parents, and Russell’s father had a front-row seat. Off to the side, in the shadow of the balcony seats, one of his father’s servants held up a scroll. He gave Cardin a curt wave and shielded the scroll’s camera from the stage lights.

As Ozpin announced his Team Cardinal and declared Cardin the leader, he looked on his teammates, the audience, and his father’s stand-in with a smile he didn’t feel.


	2. Confrontation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So far so good on my chapter-a-week plan, and considering the week I had, let’s say it was a miracle I got the next chapter done. Tuesday had me staying at work past one in the morning because of an identified allergen risk in a shift’s worth of product that had to be put on hold. Meetings on Wednesday and Thursday also cut into my spare time, but I managed.
> 
> I appreciate all the reviews, follows and favorites – I think this is the most I’ve received in a story’s first week. Each week, I’ll respond to the bigger ones in these notes, but I’ll be avoiding all specific spoilers for this story. In the event that I do say some general plans that I have for this story, be advised that they can change at the drop of the hat. I’ve already written two scenes that weren’t even part of my plan when I was forming the outline, as tends to happen when I find myself between intended plot points.
> 
> To Hellbreaker, I can certainly understand the desire for more grounded and realistic characters, and I hope to deliver. It’s hard to do so for Russell, Dove, and Sky, as they don’t really have a personality in the show, so I’m obliged to overhaul their characters without straying from what little they do. Say what you will of the character development, but one thing that’s nice about the core RWBY characters is that they practically write their own dialogue – each has a distinctive voice and personality that seamlessly bounces off one-another. I won’t lie, Blake will be a major part of the story, and I’m entertaining the idea of an occasional chapter from her perspective for narrative reasons, but the story’s focus will be on Cardin.
> 
> To everyone else, thanks for the interest. I appreciate all comments on things you like/don’t like, as it allows me to better adjust and plan out the story. Still looking for a casual beta-reader if anyone’s interested.
> 
> With that out of the way, I hope you enjoy the chapter.

\----------

Metal clanged and grunts echoed through the amphitheater as two students Cardin didn’t recognize battled each other. With a flash of fire, one student swung their axe in a low sweep, but the other student leapt over it, landed on their opponent’s shoulders, and kicked him hard in the neck. An Aura meter overhead on the hard-light display flashed red as the student collapsed.

Applause filled the room with a muted rumble as the two students walked off the stage. Professor Goodwitch ran back a recording of the battle, pointing out the strategies employed, the flaws in their movements, and suggestions on how to improve their combat. After she finished her lecture, Professor Goodwitch scanned the audience. Her eyes narrowed when she saw Cardin.

“You, Cardin, shall battle next.” She scanned the rest of the crowd. She frowned, and pointed at a scraggly, blond-haired boy.

“Jaune, you too.”

Jaune groaned and unsheathed his sword. The redhead next to him, Pyrrha, gave him a comforting pat on the back and wished him luck. Cardin scowled at them.

Jaune started the battle with a wild swing. Cardin drew his mace and swiped each blow away, falling back, circling around Jaune, and letting him wear himself out. After a few minutes, Jaune fell back and leaned forward, gasping for breath. Sweat matted down his unruly blonde hair. The sword in his right hand trembled, and his shield was touching the floor.

Cardin watched his opponent in sparring practice with an open stance, his mace held slack in one hand. With a roar, Jaune charged forward, swinging his blade wildly in front of him. Cardin stepped aside and swung his mace. The shield flew from Jaune’s fingers. He staggered back, hissing in pain and rubbing his numb fingers on his hip.

Irritation and scorn burned inside Cardin. As Jaune roared and swung his sword in a wild arc, Cardin blocked it with the hilt of his mace. Jaune pushed hard against him, but Cardin held the smaller student back without giving an inch.

Cardin sneered down at him. Jaune’s arms were shaking and his knuckles went white from pushing his sword. His stance was wide-open and uneven, he leaned too far back, as if afraid of the next blow, and Jaune’s eyes were locked on his sword. All Cardin had to do was step back and let Jaune stumble out of the arena, but after considering all the ways he could counter, he happened upon a fun idea.

Cardin leaned in and said loud enough for the class to hear, “This is the part where you lose.”

“Over my dead-”

Cardin brought a knee up into Jaune’s groin. He groaned and sank to the floor. His sword clattered on the ground as it fell from his fingers. Cardin raised his mace for another blow.

“That’s enough.” Professor Glynda held out her riding whip in front of Cardin. “Jaune’s Aura is now in the red. You may take your seat.”

Russell laughed as Cardin sat next to him. “Damn, that was perfect!”

Cardin tuned out the professor as she lectured Jaune on watching his Aura reserves and planning out his attacks. How someone so clumsy and incompetent managed to enter Beacon eluded him until he saw Pyrrha Nikos hovering over Jaune, giving him covetous glances when she thought no one was looking. With a world-renowned fighter coddling him every step of the way, even an idiot like Jaune could get into a prestigious academy.

“I wonder why she had him fight you,” Sky said. “It’s not like he had any chance.”

Cardin shrugged. “Probably to goad him into working harder.” With a chuckle, he added, “Or to convince him it’s time to leave.”

Russell and Sky laughed with him while Dove looked at the stage with a frown and said, “You could’ve just gone for the ring-out.”

“Yeah, but what’s the fun in that?” Cardin asked. “I’m not going to take it easy on someone just because they’re so pathetic.”

Dove hid his frown and shrugged. “Just seems like a waste of effort.”

Two more battles came and went before Goodwitch dismissed them. Cardin’s stomach rumbled as he led his team to the cafeteria. Row after row of wooden tables lined the hall. A set of doors led into the kitchens, where piles of food sat in heated trenchers and on giant plates. Cardin loaded up his plate with spoonfuls of meatballs, a tangle of pasta, mounds of sautéed spinach, and two brownie bars.

They took the table nearest the cafeteria. Other students veered around them to find their own seats.

“Hey, look,” Russell said, pointing at a bench in the corner. “Bunny ears is all alone today.”

Cardin turned his head just enough to catch her in his peripheral vision. Velvet hunched over her lunch tray, her ears drooping as she pushed green beans and potatoes around on her plate. He looked around the room, hunting for any sign of sunglasses and beret. Velvet was alone. Goodwitch hadn’t yet arrived from the auditorium either.

“Perfect,” Cardin said. “Time to strike the last filthy Faunus off the list.”

“She’s a third year,” Sky hissed. “She could probably kick our asses.”

“And if she does, we’ll call her a White Fang bitch,” Cardin answered, pushing his tray aside. “We better do this now.”

Cardin slipped between the tables. Russell was right on his heels, Sky went around the press of people, and Dove lingered over a couple more bites before joining in. Velvet, so preoccupied with her food, noticed neither the sudden hush in the room nor the approach of Team CRDL.

As Cardin hovered behind her, sudden revulsion churned and frothed in his gut. In his eyes, her ears had all the filth and ugliness of dead rats. Suppressing a shudder, Cardin reached forwards, grabbed them, and pulled her up out of her seat. She cried for them to let go, but Cardin tightened his grip.

“See Russell? I told you they were real.”

Russell leaned forward and grinned. “Damn, guess I lost that bet. I thought she was going for some messed up fashion trend.”

Cardin laughed. Sky and Dove joined in. “Nobody would actually want ears like these.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Cardin saw Yang half-rise out of her seat, eyes blazing red. Her younger sister, Ruby, put a hand on her shoulder. Yang’s hands trembled as she took a deep breath and sat back down.

His hands itched to let go, but Cardin squeezed harder and whispered into a human ear, “Enjoy the rest of your lunch, freak.”

After he left, Velvet dumped her food in the nearest garbage bin and ran from the cafeteria.

Cardin felt Yang’s eyes on him for the rest of the lunch period, and hers wasn’t the only attention he had. Her yellow-eyed partner stared with equal rage, while emerald-eyed Pyrrha could have been marble carved to embody scorn. The other Faunus in the room either glared at him or kept their eyes on their food.

“Well, we got every single one,” Russell said. “Which one was your favorite?”

“Velvet was kinda fun,” Cardin said, “But she’s too hard to catch alone, and I don’t think her teammates will let her out of sight after this.” With a sigh, he leaned back in his chair. “None of them make good material. Figures, since everyone has to be tough to get in here.” He let a smile touch his lips. “Well, almost everyone.”

Russell beamed. “Jauney boy?”

“You bet. I don’t know how a dipshit like that got into Beacon, but I’ll make sure he leaves in tears.”

“You’d be doing him a favor,” Sky said. “Jaune wouldn’t last five seconds against a Beowolf.”

Cardin had just enough time to finish off his vegetables when the bell rang. He slipped out ahead of the crowds of students, leaving his team to clear up his plate. A lone set of footsteps echoed from behind as he strode through the empty halls. He glanced into the doors on each side. A lecture hall to the right had a light coating of dust over the seats, and its board was bare. He closed the door behind him, took a seat in the far corner, and waited.

Yang’s partner strode into the room. Cardin felt his eyes widen and forced himself to casually lean forward.

“Well, not who I was expecting. Did Yang send you?”

The girl’s yellow eyes narrowed. “Why are you doing such horrible things?”

Cardin looked around him and shrugged. “Horrible things? What do you mean?”

“Tripping Faunus, knocking books out of their hands, shoving them into lockers.” She strode up to his seat and placed both hands on the table. “Pulling on their ears.”

With a laugh, Cardin said, “Oh, that’s what you mean. Sorry, I got confused.”

“Confused? How could you be confused about that?”

Cardin grinned. “They’re only Faunus, so why would any of those things be horrible? Honestly, they’re lucky I’m not doing worse to them.”

With equal parts mirth and annoyance, Cardin watched as her face reddened. She grabbed him by the tie and yanked him forward.

“You think this is funny?”

“Yes. Why else would I be doing it?”

“It’s disgusting!”

“I know. I feel filthy every time I touch a Faunus, but how else am I supposed to properly harass them?”

Her grip tightened on his tie as rage and disgust contorted her face. Cardin laughed, and her knuckles went white.

“People like you are the reason there’s so much suffering in the world.”

Cardin shrugged. “Can’t argue with that. So, how about I cut you a deal?”

Her eyes narrowed, and she let his tie fall. “What kind of deal?”

“Find a good reason for me to stop picking on Faunus, and I will,” Cardin said. He took on a mocking tone. “After all, big bigoted idiots like me don’t think good. We need help figuring out what to do.”

“You should stop because it’s wrong.”

“And what makes it wrong?”

She straightened up, towering over Cardin in his seat. “The Faunus are people just like you. They deserve to be treated just like anyone else.”

“How is that my problem?”

“Excuse me?”

Cardin stood up and leaned over her. “Why the hell should I care how the Faunus feel? That’s the one thing people like you can’t wrap their heads around. You only see the one side – the side of the ‘wronged’. You only care about how that one side feels. Yet, what really matters is how I feel, and I feel that the Faunus have done nothing to deserve being coddled.”

“Coddled?” The girl stood up on her tip-toes, trying to shorten Cardin’s height advantage. “They fought for your country in the Color Wars, and in return, you shipped them all to a barren island. How is that fair?”

Cardin crossed his arms. “They should be thankful they got anything at all. It’s not as though we had to reward them.”

Her mouth worked, but no words came out. She glanced nervously at the door.

“How about I help you out?” Cardin asked.

Her eyes snapped back on him. “What do you mean?”

“If you really want a good reason for me to stop, I’ll give you one.” He paused to study her expression – guarded, wary, but curious. He had, at first, meant to suggest bribery, but perhaps a show of intellect would unbalance her. “Inequal and harsh treatment generates resentment in the oppressed population. Extended periods of such treatment can lead to organized rebellion, and even terrorism, which can hurt the economy and force countries to increase spending on their military. Just look at the White Fang.”

The girl paled and looked down at the floor.

“Nothing to add? How about I give you a better one. While it may appear beneficial to have a low-cost labor force to keep the price of goods down, it ultimately hinders the economy, as said labor force would not have the means to purchase the goods these companies make. Intentionally suppressing the education of a lower-class also inhibits technological and industrial development, as it reduces the skilled labor pool that companies can draw upon.” He stopped and gave her a level stare. “How’s that for a sophisticated reason for racial equality?”

The girl’s eyes went wider through each word of his explanation. After a moment, she asked, “If you see the benefit of helping the Faunus, why don’t you?”

Cardin leaned forward until his face was almost touching hers and whispered, “Because I don’t care. If you want me to care, some lien, dust vials, or favors are a better way to start.”

Since his face was pressed so close to hers, and since his height brought his eye level squarely at the bow she wore, he saw with perfect clarity that the bow flattened itself as her jaw tightened and her hands trembled with anger. Cardin brought a hand up to his chin, stroking it while smiling at her. Before she could react, the hand shot forward, grabbing her by the bow.

He felt a slender, cat-like ear stiffen beneath the ribbon.

“Your bow is twitching a lot,” he said in a casual tone. “Must be the draft from the open window.”

Her eyes went to the windowless walls. “What do you-”

“I would love to continue this debate,” Cardin said over her, “But I’m afraid that the next class will be starting soon, and I don’t want my teammates wondering where I went. Why don’t we continue this discussion some other time, say, on the dorm’s roof at ten o’ clock?” He let go of the ribbon and walked past her. At the door, he turned back and said, “I wouldn’t tell your teammates if I were you. You wouldn’t want them to overreact and force me to explain the situation, would you?”

Cardin’s left hand went into his pocket. From memory, he brought up the camera and readied a picture. In one motion, he yanked off the ribbon and brought up his scroll.

“Not bad,” Cardin said as he studied the picture. He turned his scroll and showed her. “The lighting really brings out the color of your hair.”

She grabbed at his scroll, but Cardin wagged one finger in front of her while he tucked it into his pocket. He dropped the ribbon and left her standing there with a horrified expression on her face.

The halls were nearly empty, but Cardin made it just before the bell. He took a back seat nearest the door. Russell whispered to Dove and Sky before collecting his books and sitting next to Cardin.

“What took ya?” he asked.

“One of Yang’s teammates,” Cardin said, just as Blake walked in. Professor Port scolded her for tardiness, but she didn’t seem to hear any of it. “A social justice warrior to the bone, that one. Worse than Yang.”

Russell winced. “She doesn’t hit as hard as her, right?”

“Not even close,” Cardin said with a grin.

With a glance to make sure that Professor Port was thoroughly entrenched in his rambling lecture, Cardin opened up his scroll. Accessing his “School Projects” folder required a password inputted three times to get past the encryption. It wasn’t the only encrypted file on his scroll, but it was the only one that purged the contents if it detected forced entry.

Inside was a collection of student records, organized by team. Going into the RWBY folder, he pulled out the file labeled “Blake Belladonna.” Same face, same dour, yellow-eyed expression, same bow-tie, and identified as human.

“Blake, huh?” Russell asked. “Worth keeping an eye on.”

Cardin nodded and went through her training records. No academies, no prep schools, only the certification exam, taken at Beacon a week ago. A closer look at the certification revealed near-perfect scores in ballistics accuracy, agility, and stealth tests, notes about the use of her form-shifting weapon and her cloning Semblance, and the instructor being listed as Bartholomew Oobleck, the exact sort of person to “overlook” the regulation against headwear in legal identification.

Russell, meanwhile, was still going through her background. “Didn’t think anyone in Atlas was a Faunus-hugger.”

“Every country has its whackos,” Cardin said, as his brain compiled that nugget of information. With Atlas as harsh as it is people like her, one must wonder how she had stayed off the records as a Faunus. Her weapon, a rare duel-wielded variant on the grapple gun, posed its own contradictions, as such a weapon would cost at least ninety-thousand lien and fired Mistraltan 9mm rounds.

As he read on, his eyes kept drifting away from his scroll, and his legs itched with the urge to run.

“Find anything good on her?”

With a muted growl, Cardin closed his scroll. “Not enough info on the record. I doubt she’ll be a problem anyways, she was quick enough to back off when I hinted that her teammate might take offense to her love for Faunus.

Russell chuckled. “Yeah, that Weiss chick, can’t wait to see what happens between her and Yang. Think we could add a little fuel to that fire?”

“Perhaps.” Cardin turned his attention to Professor Port just long enough to hear him bragging about how much gel it takes to keep his mustache curled. “Does he ever actually teach anything?”

Russell pulled out his own scroll. “At least he doesn’t care if we get our reading done while he talks.”

Cardin groaned and sank his face into his arms. “Come on, I can barely pay attention to a text message. Couldn’t you, just, read to yourself in our room or something, and I’ll pretend I’m not listening?”

“Nice try, but we both know that’s not going to work.”

“Ugh, worth a shot.”

Cardin tuned back into the professor’s lecture only to hear him going on about how half a dozen women swooned over him when he returned triumphant from a hunt. The number went up to eight before his long-winded sentence had ended. With a curse for his dad, Cardin opened up his Grimm Studies textbook on his scroll. Taking the assigned reading in five-sentence bursts, with sour reflections on Port’s incoherent lessons to alleviate his restlessness, turned the two hour-long lecture into a thousand years of purgatory.

Cardin wasn’t the only one breathing a sigh of relief when the bell rang, but he was the first one out the door. With his legs all but trembling from the energy bottled up in them, Cardin sprinted through the halls, raced down a flight of steps, and burst through the doors of a large gymnasium.

In the giant domed room, a track made its oblong circuit next to the walls. Hurdles of varying height, stretches of broken ground, and scattered stones littered a smaller, linear track squeezed up against the inside of the larger. Next to it were racks of weights and benches, pull-up bars and mats, and stretches of open space. An adjoining room, split off with an enormous glass panel, held padded dummies, rows of targets perforated with bullet holes, and an obstacle course. Two closed-off locker rooms held their changes into athletic clothes.

Once Cardin was in his white t-shirt and blue gym-shorts, he hit the larger track and sprinted until his arms trembled. Other students trickled in, some joining him, others practicing on the rougher track, starting with stretches, or going straight to the other room. Russell, Sky, and Dove joined him on the track, but they ran out of wind before he and went to cool off on weights. Yang went straight to punching a dummy, while her sister spent the whole afternoon firing round after round down the range. Blake vanished into the room with them, taking to the obstacle course like a drop of oil skimming over a roiling ocean, weaving in and out as the room’s pendulums and springs thrashed the air around her.

Cardin glanced at the clock mounted on the far wall. With an hour left, Cardin went to the other room and took a dummy as far from Yang as possible. He heard the pounding from Yang’s dummy reach a slapping, groaning crescendo, and Yang growled each time her fists slammed into the dummy’s chest. Cardin smiled and focused on his own fist-work, spreading his blows across the dummy in a series of uppercuts, kicks, jabs, feints, knees, and elbows.

Halfway through, he took out his mace. Though he held back, he made sure to make a touch more noise than Yang. Crimson eyes glared at him from under a tangle of sweaty yellow hair, and she pounded all the harder at her dummy, making the blows echo off the walls. With a roar, she threw a punch accompanied by a shotgun blast from her gauntlets and blew the dummy’s head off.

Professor Goodwitch ran in and glared at the smoking remains of Yang’s practice dummy. After scolding her and giving her a detention, the professor waved her baton. The dummy’s head drifted on top of the stump, and with a crackling sound, the two pieces fused themselves together.

Once Goodwitch was gone, Cardin shrugged at Yang. She scowled and stormed off to the track. Her sister packed up her sniper-scythe and joined her.

Five minutes into his work-out, he heard a loud crash and muttered curses behind him. He turned and saw Blake entangled in the obstacles, with one leg pinned by a falling log, an arm caught by a length of rope, and a piston rammed into her chest. The obstacles had stopped moving once they detected her pinned leg, but Blake’s thrashing had tangled her other leg in a second rope.

Cardin glanced around the room. All of his teammates were outside, and the few students in the room were engrossed at the firing range.

“Can’t concentrate?” he asked.

Blake scowled at him and pulled at the cords. She got the arm free, but she fell forward and dangled by the one leg, with the other twisted beneath the pendulum. Blake hissed and gritted her teeth.

Cardin adopted a friendly smile and tone. “Need some help with that?”

“Don’t you dare,” she said with a scowl.

“What? Why would I do anything?” He brought his voice lower. “It’s not like you’re some filthy Faunus.”

Her eyes widened, and her face went pale and stiff. She gazed at the other students, but none of them were looking their way. “Are you trying to get me caught?”

“No, I’m just trying to help out a dear friend of mine,” Cardin said. “Although, now that I’m looking at this control panel, I just realized that I’ve never used this thing. I don’t remember which is the neutral mode, or,” he added, moving his finger over a green button, “the start button.”

Blake shut her eyes and grit her teeth. Cardin let his finger wander over that green button, and for a moment, he toyed with the idea of turning it on. But no, not with Goodwitch standing right outside of the room. Instead, he rapped on the glass. The professor turned towards him, and she rushed inside when she saw Blake. With a wave of her baton, the cord unwound itself and Blake’s legs were freed.

“Thank you for letting me know,” Goodwitch said as she helped Blake out of the obstacle course. She stared up at Cardin, frowned, and added, “It would be nice to see more of this cooperative attitude from you in the future.”

Cardin shrugged. “I just wanted to give the obstacle course a shot. Couldn’t do that with someone stuck in there, could I?”

The professor sighed and turned back to Blake. After examining the bruised leg, she instructed her to have her partner escort her to the nurse’s office. Goodwitch left the room to get Yang. Taking advantage of the professor’s absence, Cardin leaned over and whispered to Blake, “Remember our little plan for tonight.”

To lend some truth to his claim, Cardin turned on the obstacle course and got in. He started on the easier end, where twisting bars swung at chest level around him. He blocked some with his forearms and backed away from others, but even so, he found himself hit by the occasional blow to his side or back. With a wary glance at the shifting, gyrating labyrinth that marked the hard mode, Cardin waited for a gap and leapt inside. Almost immediately, he found himself pummeled back and forth by a series of pendulums, entangled, and trapped by a criss-cross of twirling bars.

Professor Goodwitch freed him with growls and mutters, and rounded it out with a lecture on not pushing himself and a recommendation to stick with the basics. As he went back to the punching dummy, he found himself wondering how the hell she had managed to stay in there for over an hour.


	3. Private Studies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’ve done some thinking since the last chapter regarding the rating of the work. In the past, I’ve used an M rating simply to be on the safe side, since I never have a clear picture of what’s going to happen as the story goes along, and I don’t want to hamper my writing by trying to force it into a T rating. However, between having a clear outline this time around and seeing what T rated works can get away with, I feel that an M rating for this work is overkill, so I’m dropping it down to a T.
> 
> In other news, my managers announced that they’re trimming my department – not firing anybody, but reducing the number of technicians on staff through relocations and letting people retire. What this means for me is far more overtime than I’d care to suffer through, since without those extra people on hand, anytime anyone takes a vacation or calls in sick, we have to pull overtime to cover it. I’d easily be working 1,000 hours of overtime annually, many of those late into the night. Though I would have liked to stay with this job longer, I’m looking for a new one, and if it gets really bad, I’ll straight-up quit. I’m not the only one planning to leave either. Whether or not management is trying to alleviate the situation, fact is they had months to come up with a plan to prevent this problem and did absolutely nothing. So, yeah, I’m salty about it. For now, I’m still keeping up with my writing, and I hope to do so going forward. I hope you enjoy the chapter.

\----------

The evening hours trickled by like pine sap, slow and sour, as Cardin grappled with page after page of Oobleck’s assigned reading on the Color Wars. Staring at line after line left his eyelids drooping and his legs twitching. With a yawn, he tossed his scroll onto his nightstand, leaned forward on his bed, and stretched.

“All this reading’s killing me. You guys up for some real combat training?”

Russell perked up, while Sky retreated further into his scroll. Dove grunted sourly and set down his pen. “Are we going off campus for this one?”

“Not this time,” Cardin said. “I want Oz to see this.”

After a quick stop at their equipment lockers, Cardin picked out a training room on the academy’s lower levels. The circular room had padded walls and floors, two stone pillars, and a Dust-powered light set into the ceiling.

The door latched shut behind them and fit seamlessly into the wall. Cardin strode to the center of the room and hefted his mace. Sky went behind one pillar, while Dove and Russell took positions on either side of him.

“Can we use bullets?” Dove asked.

“Sure,” Cardin said, “But no Dust, no Semblances and don’t hit the light. Whenever you’re ready.”

Dove lowered his sword and fired two shots. Cardin raised his arm and blocked them with his gauntlet. Russell raced forward, daggers twirling in his hands. Using the haft of his mace, Cardin swept him aside and rushed towards Dove. The swordsman darted left while firing another shot, and Sky jabbed his halberd from behind the pillar. Cardin grabbed it in his left hand, hauled him forward, and elbowed him in the face.

“Are you guys even trying?” Cardin waved his mace. “I haven’t even used the chain yet.”

Russell and Dove charged in. Cardin ducked under the sword swipe and caught one dagger with his left arm, but the other bit into his Aura at his chest. He brought his knee up and caught Russell in the side, whirled, and kicked at Dove, who parried with his free arm.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Sky hunched behind a pillar, aiming down the barrel of his trident. Feigning a swipe at Russell, Cardin pressed a button on the hilt of his mace. With a pop and a long, rasping hiss, the mace’s ball flew in a wide arc at the end of a chain. The chain caught on the pillar, but the spiked ball kept going. It caught Sky in the shoulder as he pulled the trigger. The shot buried itself in a wall.

The chain hissed as it retracted, and the ball, tugged around the pillar, shot in a wild arc towards Cardin’s hand. As Russell closed in, the ball knocked a dagger out of his hand. He stumbled back and hissed in pain. Dove charged, forcing the point of his sword past Cardin’s guard. The sword wedged into Cardin’s armor and gouged at his Aura. Cardin twisted, swept a leg out, and kicked at the back of Dove’s knee. He stayed upright, but his arms flailed and the sword retreated.

Sky fired another shot, this one slamming into Cardin’s back. He felt a stinging tingle as his Aura dropped. Cardin rushed at him, and Sky yelped as the mace swung towards his head.

Russell sprang off a pillar, spun through the air, and kicked at Cardin’s arm. Cardin spun with the motion, let the chain loose, and whirled his mace around the pillar. Sky leapt out of the way, but the ball spun full circle and caught Russell on the side of the head. He sprawled out on the floor, groaning and rubbing at his temple.

Cardin had the chain retract, but the ball stuck on the pillar. Sky scrambled and grabbed the ball with both arms. “I got it! Get him Dove!”

Slash after slash hammered at Cardin’s hilt as he wove his way around the pillar. Once he made it over to Sky, he kicked at a hand and yanked. The ball shot out of Sky’s grasp and slammed home in the hilt. He brought his weapon around, knocked the sword aside, and pushed Dove back with one hand. The mace swung low, sweeping Dove’s legs out from under him.

Sky lunged, scoring a hit in Cardin’s shoulder. Cardin reached for the halberd, but Sky swung it aside and caught Cardin in the side of the face with the haft. Ducking with the blow, Cardin pivoted and swung the mace at Sky’s knees. Sky leapt back and braced himself against a pillar. With a yell, he sprang forward, halberd aimed at Cardin’s neck. Cardin knelt, and the points of the halberd grazed his hair. He rose and swung the mace in an uppercut that caught Sky in the gut. Sky toppled to the floor, groaned, and rolled away.

Cardin turned and put his back against the pillar. Russell, having recovered his dagger, crept forward with both weapons held in a cross-guard. Dove circled around as he reloaded his sword, and Sky propped himself up with his halberd.

“Ready to take this seriously?” Cardin asked.

Russell grinned and twirled his daggers. Dove flinched, and a few bullets fell from his fingers. Sky grimaced and hurried behind Russell.

With a flick, Cardin unwound the chain and sent the ball flying towards Dove. He sidestepped and tripped on a fallen bullet. Cardin whipped his wrist, and the ball plummeted into Dove’s bronze breastplate.

Russell sprinted forward. Cardin wove his hand in a circle, and the chain looped itself around both of Russell’s hands. Sky rushed in, relying on the tangled chain to get close, but Cardin whipped Russell into the path of Sky’s halberd. Sky wrenched his halberd aside, shied away, and fell to the side.

Russell dropped both daggers, pressed his hands together, and wriggled free. He rolled, grabbed a dagger, and jabbed at Cardin’s inner thigh. Cardin shuffled his feet and took the blade on the guard above his knee. The chain retracted, and Cardin swung the mace in a swift uppercut that glanced off Russell’s shoulder. As he fell back, Dove caught him and fired a shot from his sword. Cardin knocked it aside with his mace and stepped back.

“What are your Auras at?” Cardin asked.

His three teammates answered somewhere at the halfway point, with Dove around seventy. Cardin took a deep breath and guessed around a third from the tension in his chest.

“We could bring our scrolls along,” Dove said. “Doesn’t matter so long as we don’t check them in battle, right?”

Cardin shook his head. “Just having it on you would make you want to look at them. Plus, if we leave them on the floor, someone might step on them.” He stretched his shoulders. “You guys up for some more?”

“Maybe we shouldn’t,” Sky said, “I think it’s getting late.

Cardin remembered the meeting with Blake and swore to himself. “Yeah, you’re probably right. Let’s call it here and check our scrolls.”

He walked up to the door and said, “Command prompt, open.”

The door beeped and swung open. Cardin schooled himself to a leisurely pace as they returned their weapons and went back to their room. He checked his scroll and found to his relief that it was only half past nine.

“We could’ve gone another hour,” Cardin said.

Sky shrugged and looked away. “I just wanted to make sure we didn’t miss curfew.”

“Doesn’t the room kick you out at eleven?” Dove asked as he settled into his bed. Russell answered, but Dove didn’t seem to hear as he brought a book up on his scroll.

Russell fidgeted with his scroll before setting it down. “I thought you wanted to keep the chain thing a secret. Don’t they have cameras in there?”

Cardin smiled. “They do. The Headmaster won’t let that secret slip to the students – it would deprive them of a valuable lesson. Also, people who think they’ve figured out your secret won’t look for more.”

Russell returned the grin. “I can’t wait to see the look on their faces when you get serious in the tournament.”

It took a minute for the scrolls to reacquire the signal from their Auras, but the results verified their estimates. As his teammates chatted about homework, the dust robberies, and the latest viral video, Cardin mulled over what he would offer as an excuse. He flipped through his scroll, looking at what he wanted to have read, and his legs again itched to move.

Cardin snapped his scroll shut. “I’m going for a run.”

Dove looked up from his reading. “Seriously?” he asked. “After a fight like that?”

Russell stretched and flipped through his scroll with one hand. He gave Cardin a meaningful look. “You really should get some homework done. Your dad wouldn’t be happy if you fell behind.”

“I’ll read after I’m done running,” Cardin said. “It’s easier after a workout. Anyone want to come with?”

Dove hastily retreated to his scroll, and Sky threw his covers over himself. Russell thought it over and said, “I’m not in the mood.”

“Suit yourself.” Cardin strolled out of the room, but once he was in the hallway, he briskly walked to the dorm’s gym room. Past a glass door, the room held six treadmills, two benches next to racks of weights, a weight machine, padded mats, and two punching bags.

Two students shared the room, a guy with pink highlights doing stretches, and a wiry redhead benching half the weights in the room at once. Even under all that weight, she maintained a constant stream of chatter, while the guy had his eyes shut and rarely said a word. Cardin recognized them from Team JNPR’s files as Ren and Nora, Jaune’s teammates.

With a deep breath, he unlocked the room with his scroll. Ren kept his eyes closed through his stretches, but Nora glanced at him from under five-hundred pounds of iron. Her eyes blazed, but she stayed on the bench.

“Hey, think I can hit him from here?” Nora whispered as Cardin got on the farthest treadmill. Her eyes gleamed, and the weights bounced in her arms. “He might break his legs if he trips.”

“You really shouldn’t,” Ren said. “You would be liable for any damages to both Cardin and the equipment he is using. Also, I think he can hear you.”

Cardin had, at first, dismissed Nora’s constant threats to break his legs as part of the girl’s eccentricities, but after her hammer ‘slipped’ out of her hands and slammed into his knee during one of Professor Goodwitch’s combat studies, he made sure to keep at least two people between them. Without slowing his run, he took his scroll out of his pocket and had it recording.

“How could he hear me?” Nora asked. “I’m whispering. Ooh, should we use a secret signal? You could make a sound like a sloth when he gets off the treadmill.”

“Sloths don’t have a sound.”

“We’ve been over this Ren! They sound like this.” Nora made a half-gurgle, half-growling sound. “Try it.”

Ren sighed and imitated the sound. Nora’s eyes lit up, and she sprang forward.

“The signal! I got it Ren!”

Ren’s eyes snapped open, and he tumbled back on the mat. “No, wait, Nora!”

Nora hefted the dumbbell like a javelin and tossed it across the room. It hit the floor just behind Cardin’s treadmill and slid into the wall with a solid thunk. Cardin stumbled forward, grabbed at the handles on either side, and hauled himself off the spinning tread. He mashed the power button and stepped around the dumbbell.

“Aww, Ren, you were supposed to do that when he got off. I missed!”

Ren twisted and stood up on the mat. “Nora, I told you not to do that.”

“Then why did you do the sloth call?”

“Because-” Ren held his hand up to his eyes and shook his head. With a grimace, he walked up to Cardin and offered his hand. “I hope you can accept my apology,” Ren said to him. “Nora can be a bit enthusiastic sometimes.”

Cardin hit the playback button on his recorder. Ren and Nora’s voices were audible, but their words were lost under the whir and rhythmic thumping of the treadmill.

“You would’ve been a lot more sorry if I got a good recording,” Cardin said with a straight face. He took the hand and shook it. He considered telling Professor Goodwitch anyways, but there was always the risk that Ozpin would remove any evidence he had. “Just make sure it doesn’t happen again, and I won’t tell anyone about this little accident.”

Ren gave a relieved sigh. “I appreciate that. Let’s go Nora, and no pancakes for you tomorrow.”

“What!” Nora’s eyes widened, and drool trailed down the corner of his mouth. “But Ren, you promised!”

“That was before you threw a dumbbell at another student, even if it was Cardin. Perhaps this will make you consider the consequences of your actions.”

Nora gestured wildly at him. “But it’s Cardin! If anything, Goodwitch would be grateful we put him in the hospital.”

“He may be an ass, but that’s no excuse to break his legs.” Ren looked at Cardin and nodded. “No offense.”

Cardin tapped at his scroll. “I think I can get a better recording now that the treadmill’s off.”

“Right,” Ren said. “As I was saying, Cardin is a valued member of the student body and should not be harmed by anyone. Now, Nora, please apologize.”

“But Ren!”

“Apologize, or no pancakes for two weeks.”

Nora groaned and mumbled an apology at Cardin’s shoes. He checked the time on his scroll. It was still fifteen minutes to ten, but Nora’s presence would make a good excuse for leaving early. “I better get going. Have fun getting the scuff marks off the floor.”

Ren looked at the long scratches Cardin had pointed out and sighed. With a grin, Nora said her hammer would smash them out, and Ren had to bodily drag her away from the door. Cardin watched them from the corner of his eye as he turned towards the stairs.

Three flights up, a small metal door led up to the roof. Cardin tried it and found the door unlocked. The door led out onto the middle of the roof. A set of walls flanked the stairway door and the tiled roof above the stair sloped down to the back wall. Blake was sitting against a wall next to the door, reading a book. She snapped it shut when the door opened and slid it into her backpack.

Cardin sauntered out onto the roof and looked up at the crescent moon. Blake appeared out of the shadows and stood behind him.

“You’re early,” she said.

Cardin turned and faced her. Blake’s yellow eyes glowed in the moonlight, and her hair cast a waving shadow over her face. “You’re even earlier. Next time, come when I tell you. I’m not stupid enough to have us both coming here at the same time.”

Blake’s eyes narrowed. She stepped back, drew Gambol Shroud, and pointed the barrel at him. “I am not letting you blackmail me. If you want to live, promise me you won’t say a word, and you’ll delete that picture you took right now.”

A shiver ran down Cardin’s spine and a sudden spike of adrenaline made every muscle stiffen, but he grinned and spread out his arms. “You’re not going to kill me.”

The weapon wavered in Blake’s hands. “Why not? You think I’m scared?”

“You should be. My room is right below this one, and all my teammates are in bed studying. If they heard a gunshot from the roof, one of them might check it out.”

“I’d be gone before they made it up the stairs.”

Cardin walked over to the edge of the building. Sweat beaded on his forehead. He knelt over the edge to hide the act of wiping it away. When he stood, he whispered, “They could come up through the window, but even if you got away, there’s still the message on my scroll.”

Blake bristled, bounded forward, and pressed Gambol Shroud’s blade against his throat. The edge forced him to lean back over the edge. “What message?”

The blade drew an icy line over his jugular. Cardin strangled the urge to cry out. “I set an alarm for midnight on my scroll, which I had left in my room. It has a message with a password to unlock a file on my scroll.” He held his fingers up behind his head and wiggled them. “I think you know what’s in that file.”

The blade pressed harder, and Cardin’s aura flared up. “I’ll just sneak in there and take it. You think I can’t?”

“You probably could, given the scores on your Hunter’s exam,” Cardin said. Blake’s eyes widened, but he gave her no time to process that tidbit. “Supposing that you could kill me right here before I made a sound, and assuming that you managed to sneak into my room with my team present and steal my scroll before midnight, you still have three problems.”

“Keep talking,” Blake growled.

“First, there are cameras everywhere in this school. There’s even one in the stairway right above that door.” He glanced around the building. A few trees reached up near the windows, but none cleared the roof. “Unless you flew up here, Ozpin has evidence that you were the only other person with me.”

Blake withdrew her weapon, split it apart, and twirled it by its ribbon. “I have my way of flying,” she said.

“Which brings you to your second problem. That’s a very distinctive weapon, and the school has detailed records of it, down to the slash pattern and bullet caliber. No other weapon on campus uses the same rounds, owing to the fact that yours was made in Mistral.” He paused for a moment. “Well, except Ren, but he has an alibi.”

“And the third problem?”

Cardin took a deep breath and put his hands in his pockets. His fingers brushed against his scroll. With a few movements of his fingers, he could have Russell through the window, but instead, he shoved the scroll deeper into his pocket.

“It’d make you no better than the White Fang you left behind.”

Blake blanched, and Gambol Shroud slipped from her grasp. “How the hell do you know that?”

Cardin shrugged with an air of nonchalance betrayed by a squeamish grin. “I do now.”

Her mouth worked silently as she bent to pick up her weapon. She sheathed it and pressed herself against the door. “You just guessed?”

“To be fair, I had plenty of clues to work with. Atlas keeps thorough records on all its Faunus and greatly restricts travel to foreign nations. Also, despite your supposed Altesian nationality, you possess a unique and expensive weapon of Mistraltan design, where the White Fang has a strong underground presence. One might guess that, after intercepting a load of dust destined to Vale, you decided to leave the White Fang and use the fake passport they gave you to sign up for a Hunter’s exam, enroll at Beacon, and start a new life. Did I get that right?”

Blake sagged to the ground. She hugged at her chest, and her bow flattened itself forward. “Fine. You win. I’ll do whatever you want, just don’t tell anyone my secret.”

Cardin let out the breath he had been holding and approached her. His shadow swallowed her up.

“Now that we’ve got that out of the way, it’s time that you start doing as I say.”

Blake closed her eyes and nodded.

“Good. Take out your scroll.”

Her fingers trembled as she reached into her bag. Cardin caught a glimpse of the book before she zipped the bag shut, but he couldn’t read the title in the dim lighting.

Blake held up the scroll. “Now what?”

“I think we’ll start with the reading Oobleck assigned for tomorrow morning.”

“Wait, what? You just want me to read?”

Cardin leaned down and stared into her eyes. “Were you expecting something worse, like posing for nude photos?”

Blake reddened and looked away. Her feline ears twitched and nearly worked loose of the ribbon. “I – you wouldn’t –”

With a chuckle, Cardin drew away. “Relax, I’m not going to ask you to do anything like that.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Who would want to see a dirty Faunus naked?”

Shock turned into rage in the blink of an eye. Her bow quivered, and she bounded up on her feet. With a hand on his collar, she hissed in his face, “You’re such a pig.”

“You’re the only animal up here. Now start reading. Quietly, so my teammates don’t hear.”

With a toss of her head, she sat back down and opened her scroll. She whispered the words at first, stammering over a few lines and shooting him the occasional sour look, but as the night grew darker, her voice rose to a murmur and she read with eloquent speed. Ten minutes into the chapter, Cardin sat a few paces away from her and listened with his head against the stairwell’s wall.

Once she had made her way through an overview of the Faunus Revolution, Cardin glanced over her shoulder at the time on the scroll.

“Alright, that’s enough. Wait here another ten minutes before returning to your room.”

Blake gave him a sullen stare and nodded. He paused at the door.

“Give me your scroll number. If I text you, come here at nine PM that night.”

“What will you text me?”

“I’ll pretend to be some friend of yours from Atlas,” Cardin said. “Tell your teammates whatever you want if they get curious.”

Blake said her scroll number, and Cardin had her repeat it until he could recite it from memory. He went to the door. With a grin, he put his hand in his pocket and brought out his scroll. Blake’s number went in his contacts under a false name, and he sent her a quick message.

“Seriously?” she asked. “You were lying about that file?”

“Maybe I was, and maybe I wasn’t.” He tossed his scroll in the air and watched her eyes follow it. “Who knows?”

From the roof, he went straight back to his room. His teammates were still up, reading on their scrolls. Russell nodded to him as he sat down.

“Hey, how’d it go?”

Cardin sighed and slammed his head into his pillow. “I got just enough done to last a few days. Also ran into Nora in the gym.”

Russell laughed. “Did she do anything?”

“Nah, nothing. Her boyfriend kept a tight leash on her.”

Cardin’s scroll rang. His heart sank into his shoes when he saw the contact’s name.

Russell noted the change in his expression. “It’s him?”

Cardin nodded and answered the phone.

“Hello father.”

“Cardin, it’s good to hear from you,” said the stern, stony voice. “I trust that you have been studying?”

Ice cold fear made his arms tense. Struggling to keep his features calm, Cardin thought through everything he had done since contacting Blake. Had Russell been listening at the door? Even so, there’s no way his father could know everything.

“I am currently up to date with my studying,” Cardin said. “Reading is coming along with some effort.”

“Good. I had hoped that you would learn to overcome that difficulty.” He cleared his throat. “I had also hoped to speak with you sooner and learn how you have been doing, but between all the Council meetings and preparations for the Vytal Festival, I’ve had precious little time on my hands.”

“I quite understand. I have little difficulty with my classmates, and I am considered above average in combat.”

“Only above average? I imagine Miss Nikos might have something to do with that.”

“Not her alone, but none of my classmates can come close to beating her.”

“I quite understand how frustrating that can be.” Cardin’s father paused, and a muted ruffle of papers came through the line. “Some fellow Councilors are also frustrated with her presence, since she is a clear favorite for winning the Festival. She’d tarnish any victory on Vale’s part.”

“That would be unfortunate,” Cardin said. “It would certainly be more fair for Headmaster Ozpin to give the students from Vale a chance to represent their country.”

“My thoughts exactly. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I am afraid that is all the time I had. Have a good night Cardin.”

“You too father.”

Cardin waited for his father to hang up. Once the line went dead, Cardin dropped his scroll and fell back on his pillow.

“Well?” Sky asked. “What’s the word?”

Russell went to the door, opened it a crack, and checked the hallway. He nodded and sat down on his bed, propping himself against the headboard.

“We’re getting Pyrrha to drop out of the Vytal Festival.”


	4. Jaunedice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First off, in reviewing RWBY episodes for this story, I had noticed that in Jaunedice Pt. 2, Pyrrha says “Hey, I have an idea, come with me” and four hours later, they’re on a random rooftop. I haven’t even noticed this, despite watching it about four times, until I’ve considered the logistics of class times and all that.
> 
> Second, nothing new to report on the job front, I’m afraid, but that tends to take a few months from my experience. All I can do is keep applying and keep my fingers crossed.
> 
> As far as new and exciting things in my life, I made some toasted jalapeno points with puff pastry for the first time, which need some marinara sauce badly and would’ve appreciated further seasoning. Ah well, live and learn. Also made and sold some cupcakes for twenty dollars to a coworker, so that was cool.
> 
> I thought about also giving my thoughts on Gen:Lock in these notes, but I think that’d take way too long. The tl;dr version: I like the transhumanist subtext, the action, and the plot, but I think they should have removed the last two fights against Union in favor of fleshing out the other pilots and adding more interpersonal conflict. I’m still undecided on how good it is.

* * *

 

With his feet propped up on the desk, Cardin’s attention slipped away as Doctor Oobleck droned on at impossible speeds about the fallout of the Faunus Uprising. No matter how Cardin approached the problem of harassing Pyrrha, he had no means of gaining leverage on her. If he tried having her visa revoked, Ozpin would surely fight it, and the House of Commons would never approve, not when it would be an international scandal. No bribe could get her to leave, and for all her fame, the best blackmail he could manage would be one scandalous article in the tabloids among hundreds.

When Oobleck asked if anyone had been subjugated for their Faunus heritage, Cardin smiled to himself. His eyes met those of the three Faunus in the room. The first, a scaly guy with slitted pupils, gave him a cold stare as his hand rose. Velvet quailed under his flat gaze, and her hand trembled when she brought it up. Blake scowled and kept her arms crossed.

Oobleck muttered something about how dreadful the discrimination was and how it incited violence, then he shot off on a wild tangent, asking about the turning point of the war. As Weiss answered it with her usual smugness, Cardin noticed Jaune snoring at the desk below his. He took one page of his notes and folded it into a triangle. When Oobleck fired off his second question, Cardin flicked the paper at the back of Jaune’s head.

He woke with a start, and his hand shot out from under his chin. Oobleck raced forward, proclaiming his joy at Cardin finally engaging in the class and asking for the answer. Jaune stalled for time and looked around the room. Pyrrha waved at him and held up her hands in front of her eyes. Remembering Blake’s reading session, Cardin knew she was trying to indicate their night vision, but Jaune, still groggy from his rude awakening, said the first thing that came to mind. Laughter echoed through the room, and loudest of all was Cardin’s.

With a frown, Oobleck redirected the question to Cardin. He mulled over what he would say, and decided to antagonize the teacher.

“Well, it’s a lot easier to train an animal than a soldier. Perhaps if General Lagune had thought to bring some hunting hounds, the Faunus would have lost that advantage.”

Doctor Oobleck opened his mouth, but Pyrrha beat him to the reproach.

“You’re not the most open-minded person, are you Cardin?”

“No, I’m not. You have a problem with that?”

“No, I have the answer.”

Pyrrha explained the Faunus’ superior night vision and the mistake General Lagune made in hoping to ambush them at night. Blake stepped in and called the general inexperienced. With a scornful smile at Cardin, she said, “Perhaps if he had paid attention in class and read his textbooks, he wouldn’t be remembered as such a failure.”

Cardin rose from his seat, prepared to return the insult, when Oobleck stepped in and made him sit down. Jaune laughed at the insults and got lumped into staying after class with Cardin.

Another torturous hour later of Oobleck’s incessant tangents and rapid-fire questions, the rest of the class filed out while Jaune and Cardin remained in their seats. Russell passed by his desk on the way out and said he’d save him a seat at combat class. Cardin noted that Pyrrha lingered by the door, just out of sight but exposed by her shadow reaching into the room.

Once the other students had left, Oobleck took a generous swig of coffee. “You two have been struggling in my class since day one.”

No thanks to having to read everything myself, Cardin thought. With Blake helping, that’ll change.

“Now, I don’t know if it’s a lack of interest or just your stubborn nature, but whatever it is,” Oobleck said, pausing for a dramatic sip of his coffee, “It stops now.”

It will. Endless detentions with Oobleck would mean less time to go after Pyrrha.

“You were taught to get into this school, and we only accept the best of the best, so I expect you to act like it.”

How he could say that with a straight face while looking at Jaune, Cardin couldn’t guess. Must be the jet-fuel coffee addling his wits.

“History is important, gentlemen, if you can’t learn from it, you’re doomed to repeat it.”

Ah, the old favorite of history teachers trying to delude themselves into thinking their subject actually matters. Try throwing history books at Grimm and see what happens.

“Pages fifty-one to ninety-one, I want an essay on my desk by next class.”

So, tomorrow. He wants an essay tomorrow. At least he didn’t specify the length or the topic, so one page of summarization should do the trick. The reading would be another matter. He had to count to find Blake’s contact in his pocket, but his thumb flew across the keys as he typed a mundane check-in from an old friend.

“Now, run along gentlemen.”

And like a bullet, Oobleck shot out of the room. Once the professor was out of sight and Jaune had just entered the hallway, Cardin gave him a shove in the back, sending him sprawling on the floor. He watched out of the corner of his eye as Pyrrha raced to help him up.

“You know, I really will break his legs.”

Cardin walked a touch faster down the hall to the next class.

True to his word, Russell had saved him a seat near the door. Cardin slumped into his seat with a sigh.

“How bad?”

“Forty pages by tomorrow.”

Russell’s eyes widened. “A forty page essay?”

“Even Oobleck wouldn’t be that cruel. Forty pages of reading, with a one-page essay.”

“Ouch.” He glanced over at Sky and Dove, who sat closer to the front. “Hey, since it’s not assigned reading and on such short notice, I could make an exception. He’d understand it’s to keep you from getting into more trouble.”

Cardin’s face lit up, but inside, he fumed at having called Blake for help. Well, a night alone on the rooftop would serve her right for the insult.

“Thanks a ton. I think my legs would explode if I tried to cram that all into one night.”

Russell put a hand on his shoulder. “Always happy to help. Just don’t get used to it, you know I can only do so much.”

Cardin scanned the room. Further down, he saw Blake take out her scroll and read the text. She looked around the room until her eyes met his. He gave her the middle finger and motioned up towards the roof.

“You gonna get back at her?” Russell asked.

“Not yet.” Cardin hastily retracted his finger when Goodwitch looked his way. “Pyrrha has to come first.”

“Why? We have a whole semester before the Festival.”

“And the closer we get to the Festival, the harder it’ll be to get her out of it.

Russell scratched at his mohawk. “True, but if she leaves Vale too early, she could register to fight for Mistral.”

“Which is why we have to start now, but time it right.

Goodwitch’s voice snapped through the auditorium. “Cardin Winchester, please come up to the stage. You will be fighting Blake Belladonna.”

Blake’s eyes gleamed as she rose and jogged onto the stage. Cardin looked at Russell.

“Mind if I borrow a knife?”

Russell slipped him one. Cardin tucked it into his belt and concealed it under his armor. He took a few cautious steps down the stairs, and the blade stayed put.

“Good luck,” Russell said.

Cardin passed by Sky and Dove on his way down. Sky gave him a thumbs up, while Dove watched him pass with his arms crossed. Professor Goodwitch glowered at him as he walked around her.

“Well, isn’t this a coincidence,” Cardin said as he drew his mace. “I was just in the mood to grind your face into the floor.”

Blake gave him an angry smile. “You’ll have to catch me first.”

At Goodwitch’s signal, Blake rushed forward, both blades of Gambol Shroud dancing in her hands. Cardin let them glance off his armor and Aura as he swung his mace in wild arcs. Blake ducked around his strikes and slipped past the reach of his weapon. Cardin shifted his grip all the way up the hilt and threw a punch. She faded back, and a clone materialized in her place to absorb the blow.

Cardin strode through the fading echo of Aura, let the hilt slide through his hand, and aimed a blow at her legs. Blake leapt all the way over him, wrapped the cord of her weapon around her wrist, and flung both blades at him. They struck in the chinks of his armor, gouging his Aura. With a snap of her arms, the blades flew back into her hands.

Cardin charged in and swung his mace. Blake blocked blow after blow, using her Semblance to slip back anytime he connected. Sweat ran in rivulets down his face, while Blake breathed slowly and moved with calm, even steps. A smile spread across her face.

With a yell, Cardin lunged forward and overextended on his swing. Blake brought up both blades to block it , and he let his arm go slack. Sliding into his mace, Blake used her leverage to pry apart his grip. Cardin moved forward, let go with his right hand, and reached into his belt. Just as he was about to slam into her, he brought up Russell’s knife and planted it in her stomach.

Blake reeled, gasping for air. Slashes and jabs drove her around the arena. Russell’s knife cut through copy after copy of Blake, always inches behind her. With an eye on his fallen mace, Cardin pressured her towards the center. Blake dodged and parried the onslaught of slashes without leaving the arena’s edge.

Cardin feinted with the knife and kicked her in the side. She tried to grab and throw Cardin’s leg, but he leaned into her, nearly pushing her over. Grunting, Blake swung herself over Cardin. He grabbed at her foot, and she landed on one knee. While she was on the ground, hissing from her bruised knee, Cardin ran towards his mace. Blake hands shook as she fired at the fallen weapon, but the bullets struck the mace’s head. With five shots, the mace bounced out of the arena.

Blake favored her right leg as she stood. “Not so tough without your weapon, are you?”

Cardin sneered. “You’re not even tough with your weapon.” He flexed his arms and felt the aura flicker around him. With a yell, he ran forward, arms raised over his face. Bullets glanced off his gauntlets and bit into his aura. After four strides, he slashed at her eyes. The copy vanished, and his knife whirled through thin air.

He looked around the arena, but there was no sign of her. The audience was looking up above him. Adrenaline shot through his chest as he lunged to the left, but Gambol Shroud darted in from above and hooked the underside of his breastplate. The cord groaned, and Cardin was yanked off the ground by his armor. He clawed at the buckles on his breastplate, but they were pulled too tight to unfasten.

Blake fired a shot at his butt. Cardin bit back a yelp, turned himself, and glared down at her. She smiled smugly at him, holding the other half of Gambol Shroud in her hand, smoke trailing from its barrel. The cord binding the two halves trailed up to the ceiling.

“Ready to surrender?”

“Like hell I will.”

He sawed at the cord, but Blake shot his hands, and the knife fell from his senseless grip. With a glance at the hard-light display, he activated as much of his Semblance as he dared. As his arms thrummed with power, he felt a cold, hollow sensation growing in his chest. Sweat beaded on his forehead as he pushed down on Gambol Shroud. It squealed beneath his grip, and it slid down his breastplate. Blake fired two more shots, but both hit the armor on his back. Inch by inch, his breastplate angled upward, the top of it digging into Cardin’s collarbone.

Just before the blade slipped free, a thunderous crack came from above. The tension went out of the cord, and Cardin fell to the ground.

He looked up just in time to see a metal rafter falling towards him. Before he could bring up his Aura, the rafter stopped. The metal creaked as it straightened itself out, floated towards the ceiling, and melded itself back into place.

“Cardin’s Aura is now in the red,” Professor Goodwitch announced. “The two of you may take your seats.” With a stern frown at Blake, she added, “I would appreciate it if you would behave with more courtesy, Miss Belladonna.”

Cardin felt his cheeks burn as a muted chuckle filled the room. He collected the fallen weapons and returned to his seat with all the grace he could muster.

As Russell took back his knife, he said, “Damn Cardin, you’re so heavy you broke the ceiling!”

Cardin looked up at the metal rafters. “I guess Ozpin doesn’t have the budget to fix up his buildings. Maybe I could get the Council to lend him some lien, since he seems to be spending it all on useless professors.”

Russell chuckled and looked down at Blake. She turned away from his attention.

“Hey, she shot you in the ass, didn’t she?”

Cardin shifted in his seat. “She did. She’ll have to pay for that.”

Through lunch and Port’s lectures, Cardin watched Blake and gave her threatening gestures when Yang wasn’t looking. At first, she stoically returned his stares, but as Professor Port rambled on, she paled, averted her eyes, and hid herself behind a textbook.

During the free training period, she left the obstacle course the moment he went to practice on the training dummies. Yang watched her leave with a frown, and when the door closed, she moved to the dummy next to Cardin’s.

“What’s going on between you and Blake?”

Cardin eased up on his punches. “Why don’t you ask her? I don’t know anything.”

The dummy rattled as one of Yang’s punches caved in its chest. “Bullshit. I know you’re doing something to her. Don’t think I didn’t see you glaring at her during Port’s lecture.”

“I’m just a little sore from that match this afternoon. Can’t leave things like that, you know.”

Yang snorted. “You got your butt kicked. Or shot, in this case.” With a sigh, she said, “I suppose she dug her own grave with that one. But if Ruby finds out, I’ll beat you senseless, got it?”

“Are you sure you’re related? I didn’t even recognize her during the initiation.” He threw some soft punches, as if he were thinking. “Hey, that reminds me. How did your sister sneak into Beacon two years early?”

“She didn’t sneak in! Ozpin invited her to the school after she beat up Torchwick.”

Cardin threw his fist back and slammed the dummy in the chest. The plastic skeleton cracked, and the dummy leaned forward. “That’s good to know. I didn’t think it was due to her grades or her combat ability, but who’d have guess Ozpin would use his power like that?”

Yang grimaced and redoubled her assault on her dummy. One of its arms fell off from a brutal punch to the shoulder. “I hate it when you do that.”

“Do what?”

“That whole tricking people into saying things. It feels like you have a constant need to outmaneuver people.”

Cardin drew his mace and caved in the dummy’s chest. Its spine snapped in two, and the dummy lurched back until its head touched the ground. “Not my fault most people don’t know how to keep their mouths shut.”

Yang grinned at Cardin’s broken dummy. “Goodwitch is going to kill you for that.”

“Really? Let’s see what she thinks.”

Before Yang could say anything else, Cardin went to the door and waved Goodwitch over.

“Yang broke one of the dummies again.”

Glynda’s grip on her riding crop tightened until it creaked. “Does she have no self control?” she muttered as she strode in the room. Her eyes immediately fell on Yang and the two broken dummies.

“Two! Two dummies in one day! How many times am I going to have to tell you to control yourself?”

Yang gaped and looked back and forth from Goodwitch to Cardin. She pointed and said, “He broke that one!”

Glynda’s gaze snapped on Cardin. He shook his head and said, “You have video footage, right? Instead of taking my word for it, why don’t you go watch that?”

Professor Goodwitch stared at him for a moment longer while Yang spouted more protests. Pressing her glasses against her face, she flung out the riding crop and fixed both the dummies.

“I think I shall take your word for it, Mr. Winchester. Though I may disagree with much of your behavior, I have yet to catch you telling a lie.” Her glare made Yang flinch. “The same cannot be said for Miss Xiao Long.”

“But – but it was only one drink!” she howled. “I’m eighteen in a month anyways, so who the hell cares?”

The riding crop slapped a dummy, and it snapped sideways. “Infractions of any kind are inexcusable, Miss Xiao Long, as are lies. Take this as a lesson to be more honest with your instructors going forward. Now come with me. You already have detention tonight, so we might as well get this one out of the way.”

Yang stormed out of the door. Once she was out of earshot, Glynda stood up on her tip-toes and muttered to Cardin, “Next time this happens, I will check the records. Is that understood?”

“Perfectly, Professor Goodwitch. I wouldn’t dream of doing anything to break school rules or school property.”

Her eyes narrowed, but she left the room without another word.

As Russell had promised, he read Oobleck’s extra pages after the free training period, but he went no further. Cardin grumbled in bed as he made glacial progress through the excerpts on Nevermore Port had assigned.

At around nine, Cardin opened the window. Dove grumbled that he was letting in a draft, but Cardin told them he thought he heard someone on the rooftop. To his surprise, there was.

“Pyrrha, I know I’m going through a hard time right now, but I’m not that depressed. I could always be a farmer, or something.”

Cardin couldn’t help but chuckle as Pyrrha panicked and dragged him away from the edge of the building. Russell perked up and went over to Cardin’s side.

“What?”

“Ssh,” Cardin said, putting a hand on Russell’s shoulder. “This could be useful.”

“Jaune, I know you’re having a difficult time in class, and you’re not the strongest of fighters, so, I want to help you!”

Russell grinned and whispered, “She wasn’t already? Guess that explains why he’s still garbage.”

“We can train up here after class, where no one can bother us.”

Cardin’s grin froze on his lips. Now he’d have to find a new meeting spot for Blake. Not to mention, she might even be up there with them. He could only hope she wouldn’t interrupt them.

Jaune’s voice was as hollow and defeated as an empty soda can. “You think I need help?”

Russell rolled to the floor and wheezed with laughter. Sky came over and poked his head out the window, and Dove had put down his scroll.

“No! No, that’s not what I meant.”

“But you just said it.”

“Jaune, everybody needs a little push from time to time. It doesn’t make you any different from the rest of us.”

“He needs a push off the roof,” Cardin whispered to his team. Russell snorted and jammed his fingers into his mouth, and Sky cracked a smile.

“You made it to Beacon,” Pyrrha said. “That speaks volumes of what you’re capable of!”

“You’re wrong. I don’t belong here.”

Cardin’s ears perked up. He leaned towards the window, careful so he didn’t break the edge of the window frame, and cocked his head towards the roof.

“I wasn’t really accepted into Beacon.”

The admission of guilt, so softly spoken that the wind threatened to carry it away, tickled Cardin’s ear. He gripped the windowsill so he wouldn’t fall out the window.

With how loud Jaune yelled, Cardin regretted trying so hard to overhear him. “I didn’t go to combat school, I didn’t pass any tests, I didn’t earn my spot at this academy! I lied. I got my hands on some fake transcripts, and I lied.”

As many questions as that answered, it raised a few more. Where did he get those transcripts, and how were they accepted? Jaune’s rant went unheeded as Cardin turned over the possibilities in his mind, whether his family acquired the fakes, or he bought them himself. No matter what path he considered, there was the matter of cost. Cardin knew all too well the bribes it would take to make a fake transcript that could hold up to a headmaster’s scrutiny, and they had a price no common person could pay.

The conversation on the rooftop died, and a set of footsteps walked away. Cardin snapped back to the present moment, to his shoulders clearing the sill and the wind whipping past his nose. Not knowing which one had remained, he hauled himself onto the roof. Though he scoured the shadows for signs of Blake, Jaune was the only person he could see. He was bone-white against the dark rooftop, and his eyes went wide enough to fall out of his head.

“Hello Jaune,” he said with all the honey and courtesy he could muster. “I couldn’t help but overhear you two from my dorm room. So, you snuck into Beacon, huh? I gotta say, Jaune, I never expected you to be a rebel.”

His grin widened as Jaune begged for his silence. The stammer in his voice, the shaking of his hands, the frenzied, trapped glances of a caged animal, were like blood in the water to him. It was time to go for the kill.

“Jaune, come on, I’d never rat out a friend like that.”

Jaune shied back as Cardin walked up to him. “A – a friend?”

Cardin wrapped his arm around Jaune’s neck and wrenched him towards the ground. “Of course. We’re friends now, Jauney boy, and the way I see it, as long as you’re there for me when I need you, we’ll be friends for a long time.”

Jaune gasped for breath when Cardin released him. After pondering what he could say next, Cardin ran with the first thing that came to mind.

“That being said, I really don’t have time to do those extra readings Doctor Oobleck gave us today. Think you could take care of that for me, buddy?” He ruffled Jaune’s hair, and the boy didn’t move a muscle. “That’s what I thought.”

Once his feet found purchase on his windowsill, he lowered himself over the side of the roof. “Don’t worry Jaune, your secret’s safe with me.”

Sky and Russell pulled him back into the room. After they closed the window, Russell laughed and clapped him on the back. “That was amazing!”

“It’ll make messing with Pyrrha a lot easier, that’s for sure,” Sky added. “So, he faked his way into Beacon? That makes a lot of sense.”

Cardin debated sharing his misgivings with them, but it’s not as though he had any concrete ideas. Instead, he said, “Makes me glad we have to walk up those stairs. Totally worth it to get intel like that.”

“I still think you should’ve gotten the dorm on the ground floor,” Dove said. “They had enough space for a TV and a sofa.”

Cardin shrugged and went back to the textbooks scattered on his bed. Though he tried to get through some more reading, his mind wandered back to the missing Blake and the enigma of Jaune’s false transcripts.

Meanwhile, Blake, who had been watching from the slanted roof above the door, sheathed her weapon and went back to her room.


	5. Snags

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone,
> 
> For the little slice of my life segment, I’ve decided to make soft pretzels, Cajun pan-fried catfish, honey-roasted carrots, and cornbread this weekend. I’m half-tempted to push my release date to Sunday just so I can relate all the cooking I do over the weekends, but for now, it stays on Friday.
> 
> That's all I got tonight. Enjoy the chapter!

**************

 

Jaune staggered under a four-foot stack of notepads, textbooks, and papers. Russell and Sky walked on either side of him, clearing the hall ahead, and Dove trailed behind, silently staring at the floor. As they rounded the corner, they saw Pyrrha waiting by Professor Port’s classroom. Cardin strolled up to Jaune and slapped him on the back. The books clattered to the floor.

“Whoops, sorry about that Jauney boy. Would you like some help picking those up?”

“No, no, I got it,” Jaune stammered as he went on his hands and knees picking up the scattered papers. Russell kicked a notebook halfway down the hall. It slid to a stop by Pyrrha’s feet. She looked at it for a moment, glared at Cardin, and walked into Port’s classroom.

Jaune watched Pyrrha turn away with sullen, dead eyes. Cardin examined his expression and prodded him in the shoulder, sending the top half of his new stack to the floor.

“You better hurry up with that, class is about to start.”

Two minutes after the bell, Jaune rushed into class with a teetering tower of paper. Port gave him a scathing lecture on tardiness that somehow diverted itself onto another one of his escapades, featuring an army of Ursai, five damsels in distress, and cheese fondue. Jaune remained standing with the papers in his hands for ten minutes until Port absently sent him to a seat.

“Have those neatly sorted,” Cardin whispered as Jaune set the papers down in four piles. “You wouldn’t want us losing our homework, would you?”

“I’ll have it tidy.”

“Thanks pal.” Another clap on the back made a pile topple forwards, but Jaune caught it just before it fell onto another student.

His eyes wandered across the room. Blake had her head buried in a book, but Pyrrha was staring at him. The moment their eyes met, she turned away and turned a page. Yang locked eyes with him, staring with cool indifference betrayed by the red in her eyes. Ruby, who sat next to her, hid her face behind her book and darted quick glances at him from over its cover. Weiss Schnee was also watching, impassive, and though she averted her eyes away from his, she didn’t turn away.

“Yang’s going to be trouble,” Russell whispered from Cardin’s left.

“It’s Ruby we should be worrying about,” Cardin said into his book. “So long as Jaune doesn’t stick up for himself, Yang won’t make a move, but that would change if Ruby asked her.” He passed another glance at Weiss. “I think it’s about time I spoke with the heiress and see how valuable an ally she could be.”

“That’s not a good idea.”

“No, but leaving Ruby and Yang to stew is worse. Just tell him I’ll speak with her as a student, and not as a Winchester, alright?”

Russell shrugged. “Just don’t do anything too risky.”

Cardin placed one hand over his heart and another on the ramshackle pile of papers Jaune had assembled. “On my honor as a Winchester, I shall do nothing to dishonor the family name.”

Russell cracked a grin and shoved his shoulder. “Alright then, let me know how it goes on the track.”

Per her usual custom, Weiss lingered in the classroom to sort her intricate array of notes and reference material, ask Professor Port a rapid series of complex questions that left the man sweating until his mustache drooped, and straighten out her skirt. Nearly five minutes went by before she shouldered her pouch and strode out the door. Cardin fell in beside her.

“The answer is still no, Jaune,” she said without turning around. “I’m not interested and never will be interested, so for the love of the gods, take a hint.”

“Did you really just mistake me for that shrimp?”

Weiss jumped. Her eyes narrowed when she saw Cardin. “Oh. What do you want?”

Cardin paused for a moment, letting the hostility in her voice wash over her brain as he contemplated the ways he could deflect it. “I’ve merely come to pay my respects to the heiress. I have been hoping to have a conversation with one worthy of respect equal to any ducal heir, but out of fear of offending you, I have thus far waited for you to make the first move. Seeing as it has been some time since our classes started and we have thus far not exchanged a word, I hope you do not take offense to my forward behavior.”

In the time it took him to catch his breath after such a long-winded monologue, Weiss’ face went through a wide range of emotions, none of which filled Cardin with any confidence. Surprise, then disgust, and last, stony dismissal.

“I see. You have said your words, and I have said mine. Now if you will excuse me, I would rather not be late to class.”

Weiss turned away. His chest fluttered as Cardin said after her, “So you hate the formalities as much as I do? Thank the gods, I thought I was the only sane one.”

She stopped and looked at him. She had suspicion in her eyes, but she took a step towards him.

“You dislike the trappings of nobility so much, and yet you look down on everyone around you? You even have Jaune carrying books for you.”

Cardin grimaced, but inwardly, he took a deep, calming breath. “I cannot behave in such a manner that would disgrace the Winchester name. As you are of equal standing with me, and we are quite alone, I have greater freedom to talk.” His brain burned, and his thoughts raced to process everything he knew about her. “I had hoped that, since you went here instead of Atlas, that you must wish to escape your dad as much as I do.”

Her features softened, and a smile touched her lips. “True, such responsibilities can become quite wearisome after a while. In truth, I wished to attend Beacon so I could better acquaint myself with Vale’s culture and politics. After all, Vale is a prominent purchaser of Dust, and it would be best for the heiress to learn all she can of her clients.”

Cardin smirked to himself and grinned with all his strength.

“Perhaps I could assist you with your research. After all, I am the heir to the Winchester ducal title and its seat on the Council of Lords, and I would be very interested to learn how the SDC intends to conduct business in the future.”

Weiss beamed and offered her hand. “Why don’t we discuss matters on the way to class? I would be interested to understand how the nobility of this land perceive the lower-class citizens.”

Cardin answered the implied question with words coated in resigned bitterness, relating how his father encouraged him to assert his dominance over the other students in his class and manipulate the teachers that tried to curb his influence. Flashes of anger colored Weiss’ cheeks, but her face didn’t move a muscle. When he said how his father had him pay extra attention to the Faunus in his school, her hands shook and she turned away.

“I had not realized that the Vale nobility were so strict. It quite reminds me of matters back in Atlas.”

He paused, on the threshold of asking about her own feelings, perhaps probing into that reaction to Faunus harassment, but rather than risk alienating her, he diverted the conversation. “What was that about Jaune? Has he been bothering you?”

Weiss flinched and looked away. “Well, I mean he isn’t being cruel. He just, I wish he could take a hint. He hasn’t stopped asking me out since classes started, and I’m sick and tired of telling him no.” She huffed and hugged her satchel against her chest. “I wish he’d ask Pyrrha out. She’d be thrilled.”

Excitement bubbled in his chest, but he forced himself to proceed slowly. “Couldn’t you be a bit more firm? Perhaps if you made it clear that someone of your station couldn’t possibly accept someone like him, he’d lose interest.”

Her eyebrows furrowed as she sifted through his words. “I’d rather not. Using my rank as a shield would invite envy and scorn.”

Cardin pretended to think for a moment. “You said that Pyrrha would want to be with him?”

“Yeah, obviously!” She wrung her hands around the strap of her satchel. “I don’t know how Jaune could have possibly missed it. She’s clearly head over heels for him.”

With a sly grin, Cardin said, “He’s dense enough to think he still has a chance with you.”

“Exactly!” Weiss huffed and shook her head. “I was hoping that Pyrrha would talk to him, but it’s been months now.”

“Well, why don’t you talk to her?”

Weiss looked up at him. Her eyes had an unfocused cast, and he could see the gears spinning in her head.

“Talk to her about what?”

“Convince her to ask him out. Perhaps she just needs a little push. Once she and Jaune are together, you wouldn’t be bothered anymore, right?”

Weiss frowned and looked down the hallway. “I don’t know. It feels so manipulative.”

Cardin brought a hand up to his brow to hide the rolling of his eyes. “Is it wrong if it would make everyone happy?”

“Huh. I suppose you’re right.” Weiss grinned up at him and gave him a quick hug on the shoulders. “I’m glad we had this little talk. I’ll talk to Pyrrha during lunch tomorrow.”

“Why wait until tomorrow? Let Pyrrha know during exercise period that you would like to talk to her tonight. The roof on top of the dormitory is a great place to get some privacy.” He looked away and let his grin fall. “Or so I hear.”

Weiss put a hand on his shoulder. “Thanks for the advice. I’ll make sure to keep the hideaway a secret.”

Cardin feigned a relieved grin and held the doors open to the track room for her. Their entrance drew a few wondering looks from students on the track, but neither Pyrrha nor Yang had seen them.

“I’ll slip you a note when I can meet you,” Cardin muttered without moving his lips. “It would be best if we aren’t seen together too often.”

“Political intrigues?” Weiss asked.

“Exactly. See you tomorrow.”

Before Weiss could say another word, Cardin hit the track and sprinted hard until he caught up with Russell. Sweat already dampened his mohawk, and his breaths came out in sharp puffs.

“What did you find?”

“She’ll be difficult to use, but she gave me the most brilliant idea.”

Russell wiped sweat off his forehead. “It better be worth it. I saw a student ahead of me snap a picture with his scroll.”

“Any chance you can get it off of him?”

Russell gritted his teeth and stared at his feet. A piece of his shadow wriggled free, darted forward, and vanished down the track. After a few seconds, it rushed back. A scroll leapt out of the spot before it merged back with Russell’s shadow.

“Damn, he already sent it,” Russell said as he opened up the messages.

“Get the number to Sky.”

“No need.” Russell held up the scroll. Though it bobbed with the motion of Russell’s arms, Cardin saw the name Cirilian on the contact information. His swears made the nearest students shy away from him.

“What now?” Russell asked.

“Keep the scroll and have Dove watch him. I’ll get some damage control started.”

Cardin sprinted into the smaller room. Once again, Blake left the obstacle course. Yang glared at him, and her punches hardly touched the dummy.

He turned on the obstacle course. He let the easier section push him around while he watched the twirling and swinging of the hard mode. After a few minutes, he noticed a section in the corner where, if he was bunched up in a ball, the machine wouldn’t touch him. The path there was brimming with obstacles, but timing it out, Cardin slipped in between a swinging bar and a pendulum. A cord snagged around his arm, but he twisted out of it, dove, and rolled into the safe corner.

Hidden by the obstacles, Cardin opened up his scroll and called his father. He answered on the first ring.

“It’s rather surprising that you call me in the middle of class. Is something the matter?”

Ensconced within that simple phrase were a series of codewords – he was alone, it was safe to talk, and he was in a position to immediately address matters.

“The Cirilians have a picture of me holding a door for Weiss Schnee.”

“I see. This is why I warned you against fraternizing with her.”

“It was in the interests of Vale that I approached her,” Cardin replied, intimating at the project assigned to him. “Is the dinner party scheduled for this Saturday?”

“I will have you added to the registry and mention your coming to my brother in law. Gideon will come for you on Friday evening.”

“Thank you father. I have to go now, but it was a pleasure to speak with you.”

“Any time, Cardin.”

After the line went dead, Cardin stared out at the writhing mass of obstacles between him and the relative safety of the beginner’s course and felt his spine shiver.

“Wow, you’re really getting the hang of that,” Yang called from her dummy. “I’ve never seen such masterful dodging.”

“At least I’m not punching all the obstacles,” Cardin shot back. “I’d rather not get detention with Goodwitch.”

Yang’s eyes changed color, and she swung a fist at her dummy, but it stopped short of its face. With a chuckle, she turned around and crossed her arms. “I wonder how you’re going to get out of there.”

Cardin shrugged. “Hit the off switch and I’ll tell Goodwitch you only broke one of those dummies yesterday.”

She trailed a finger over the off button, but she didn’t press it. “I’m not dumb enough to fall for that.”

“Damn it. You actually have a few brain cells underneath all that hair? Good for you.”

Yang ran a hand through her hair and made it bounce. “With hair this gorgeous, who needs brains? Besides, I’m not the idiot who walked into a torture chamber to make a call.” Her face brightened, and the crimson vanished from her eyes. “Hey, I wonder how many people I could get to come watch this?”

“Fine, fine, I’m getting out.” He watched for that clearing he darted through earlier and found it, but from a crouching position, he couldn’t properly time it. He rose a step too late, and a rope swung his legs out from under him. Within two seconds, he was strung up by his ankles with a wedge crammed in his gut and a bar slapping him in the face.

“Aww, I didn’t have time to heat up my popcorn.”

“Screw you. Could you at least call Goodwitch?”

Yang put a hand on her chin and leaned on the console, pretending to think. “Nah, I still want my popcorn.”

A younger voice called across the room, “Don’t worry, I got it!”

“What, Ruby? Wait, just let him sit in there for a couple minutes, please?”

Yang’s words went unheeded as her little sister darted out of the room. A moment later, Goodwitch strode in. Her eyes went to the dummies, which for a change, weren’t smashed to pieces.

“I’m glad to see the detentions are sinking in,” she said. She looked inside the obstacle course and sighed. “Cardin, I believe I told you to stick with the beginner’s course. Please don’t expect me to pull you out of there every day.”

As she set the machine into its neutral setting, her eyes fell on the usage stats on the console. “Well, what’s this? It would appear that I was incorrect in estimating your skills. Mind you, ten minutes is nowhere near the record, but it is well above average for students your age. Even professional Hunters use that equipment from time to time, so take pride in displaying skill equal to theirs. Please accept my apologies for doubting your capabilities the other day, Mr. Winchester.”

In an awkward position in every sense of the word, Cardin studied Glynda’s smooth, up-side-down expression as he wondered how to answer her. Taking credit for the excellent score would let him further drag Yang’s name through the mud when she would inevitably try to contest it, but it would give Glynda an unreasonable assumption of what he could do. Revealing how he had cheated the system would come with its own problems, but if he played it off as trying to get a good score for laughs, he could avoid getting scolded for making a call in the middle of class.

Before he could make up his mind, Yang spoke up. “You should’ve seen it, Professor Goodwitch, he made that obstacle course look easy. He only got hit because I started talking to him.”

Glynda raised an eyebrow at her. “Really? I never thought you would be one to pay Cardin a compliment.”

“What can I say?” She tossed her hair and gave Cardin a devilish grin. “I’m trying to be more honest.”

Cardin felt a sinking feeling in his stomach that had nothing to do with the pivot jammed under his ribcage. “I didn’t really do anything special, Professor, I just hid –”

“No need to be shy,” Yang cut in. “It’d be great if you could show me how you do it.”

Professor Goodwitch smiled, and Cardin’s gut turned to ice. “Why, that’s a fantastic idea Yang! Granted, it would take some time to arrange something for a combat demonstration, but perhaps a day dedicated solely to perfecting dodges and commenting on it, why it could be a new staple for the curriculum. Cardin, I would be grateful if you could be the first to present when it’s ready.”

Humming to herself, Professor Goodwitch raced out of the room. Cardin wriggled in the bindings and shouted after her, but the door slammed shut.

“Here, let me,” Yang said. She clambered into the machine and approached him. The equipment groaned as she pried it aside, and she yanked on the ropes until Cardin fell to the floor.

As Cardin rubbed life back into his ankles, he said, “You could’ve extorted some favors out of that.”

“And you’d make me pay for them later. No thanks.”

Cardin smiled at her. “It would be smarter for me to keep my word. That way, you’d be more inclined to do me favors in the future. If I stabbed you in the back after you helped me, you’d never forget it.”

Yang huffed and clambered out of the machine. Cardin followed her to the punching dummies and picked one next to her.

“Why did you help me then?” he asked.

Yang shrugged mid-punch. “I didn’t feel like leaving you in there.” She threw a few more half-hearted punches and rubbed her knuckles. “Better stop before I get a detention. See ya.”

She threw one last punch before throwing open the door. Cardin watched her hit the track and wait for Ruby to race up to her.

With the room to himself, Cardin took out his scroll and looked at his message history with Blake. Her response had been terse, too cold for a distant friend, but he could work with it. He sent a half-apologetic reply and snapped his scroll shut.

The after-dinner meeting with his teammates started with an uneasy silence as they waited for Cardin’s orders. As Sky detached the microphone from the scroll’s motherboard, Cardin mulled over the day’s events and the sudden involvement of the Cirilian family, Weiss’ behavior, and his impending meeting with Blake.

“Sky, have you found anything on there?”

“More pictures,” Sky said, holding up the scroll for them to see. They showed him in the cafeteria, the battle with Blake, and a well-timed picture of the embarrassing shot he took. “There’s an encrypted file on there, it’d take a few days to crack it.”

“Alright. We can ignore it for now. Russell, what did he do afterwards?”

“He saw his scroll was missing and borrowed a teammate’s to make a call. A package arrived for him during dinner.”

“Snap a few pictures in the girl’s locker room with that scroll and switch it with the new one. But first, Sky, extract the files onto Dove’s scroll”

“Why mine?” Dove asked.

“There’s a risk the files are bugged. Yours doesn’t have anything important on it.”

“You better replace it if it gets messed up.”

“I’ll buy you a new one tomorrow. Also, after Russell makes the switch, leave an anonymous tip-off with Goodwitch that you saw a male student with pictures from the girl’s locker room.”

Russell grinned. “Absolutely brutal. Can I keep a pic or two?”

Cardin gave him a level stare, and Russell looked away.

“I was just kidding.”

He turned towards Dove and put his feet up on his bed. “I have a job for you as well.”

Dove crossed his arms and leaned back. “More locker room pictures?”

Cardin rolled his eyes. “Try to talk to Weiss tomorrow. Be the essence of politeness and ask what she and I spoke about yesterday. Have your scroll recording the conversation.”

“And if my scroll is bugged?”

“I’m counting on it.”

He grunted. “I’ll do it after Oobleck’s class.”

“Do it after Port’s. I’ll slip Weiss a note first.”

Cardin looked at the time. He swiped a white exercise shirt and jogging shorts off of his bedpost. “I think I’ll get a run and read in before bed. Care to join me?”

“I’ll work on the decryption,” Sky said. Dove didn’t bother to respond. Russell looked at the door and put a hand on his scroll, but he said, “I’ll scope out the locker room in a bit. How many cameras are in the area?”

“Two in the halls,” Cardin said as he wriggled out of his uniform, “Each overlooking a door.” “I doubt there are any inside, but check first. The ventilation shaft on the east wall should be clean.”

The exercise room was empty this time. The scratches on the floor had been buffed clean, and a coat of fresh wax covered the tiled floor. Cardin hit the weights first, using his Semblance to match what Nora had lifted. Even with the assistance, Cardin’s arms trembled after fifteen reps. The weights hit the bench with a heavy clang when his Semblance gave out. He sprinted just enough to drench his hair and work-out clothes, left the lights on in the room, and went up to the roof. He struggled through a couple pages of Port’s assigned reading before Blake swung up from the side of the building.

“Right on time,” Cardin said without looking up. “We have to stop meeting here. Too many people have caught on to this place.”

Blake glanced away, and her jaw clenched. “What do you suggest?”

“An empty classroom. Fitting for a quiet study session, right? We’ll take the long way so no one spots us.”

He could have picked any classroom, but he led her to the one where they had first spoken. Her bow drooped when she walked into the dark, dusty classroom. He left the lights off as he went to the desk closest to the light from the hallway.

“Page eighty in Grimm Studies, second paragraph.”

Pages rustled as Blake settled on the wall opposite him.

“You’re not using your scroll?”

“Hurts my eyes. Is that a problem?”

“As long as you can read it, I don’t care.”

Cardin leaned back in the chair and closed his eyes, letting the words sink into his brain. He could hear her fidgeting against the wall. Blake made it through twenty pages before she stopped.

“Don’t expect me to bow and scrape like Jaune. If you don’t want me to get caught, I need to act the way I normally would.”

Cardin opened his eyes. “Of course. I’m glad you’re smart enough to realize that.” He couldn’t make out her facial expression in the darkness, only her shiny yellow eyes, but he knew she could see every feature of his. A calculated scowl twisted his face, and though she stiffened, she held his gaze. “That said, would you normally shoot someone in the ass?”

Blake shrugged. “After what you did in class, yeah, I would have. Expect me to keep doing the same as long as you act like that.”

Cardin grinned, and Blake’s hands tightened on the book. “You won’t go that far again. The problem is, each time you make a fool out of me, I have to punish you. Otherwise, my teammates will wonder why I’m not doing anything. With Yang around, punishing you and getting away with it would be next to impossible.” He leaned over the book, blotting out its words with his shadow. “Luckily for me, I have the perfect way to punish you, and there’s nothing Yang could do to stop it.”

He let the silence hang in the air as Blake’s eyes widened. “You wouldn’t.”

“I would.”

“Then who would you have doing your reading?”

“Jaune. You already know I’m blackmailing him.”

Her eyes narrowed, but she didn’t contest his claim. “Then I’ll tell Ozpin first and have Jaune expelled.”

“You could. Then I’d just blackmail someone else. Watch.”

Cardin took out his scroll, went through his contacts, and found the police chief of Vale’s southern district.

“Good evening, Mr. Chartereuse. I trust that you’re doing well this evening? Yes, I understand how difficult it must be with Torchwick at large. Now, I have a small favor to ask. Give me a moment.” Cardin sifted through the student files and found the name of a Faunus. “Teal Simmons. Have his parents arrested as suspected White Fang terrorists, and release them an hour later, apologizing for the mix-up in the paperwork and compensating them for the mistake. Yes, I’ll have Gideon bring over a bottle of champagne in the morning. Thank you.”

Blake’s face had gone bone-white, and she shook against the wall. “Did you really just have someone arrested just to prove a point?”

“Yep. Now all I have to do is slip Teal a note, and he’d be my new reading buddy. Of course, if you had kept in line, I wouldn’t have needed to blackmail him.”’

Tears welled up in Blake’s eyes, but she blinked them away. “Fine. What do you want me to do?”

“I have three things in mind. First, you’re going to tone down the hostility. Calling me out in class every so often is fine, as is beating me in combat training, but no more attempting to humiliate me. Second, I want you to teach me how to do the advanced obstacle course without getting hit.”

Blake scoffed. “With your build, that’d be impossible.”

“Make it possible. This last one’s the most important, and how you’ll pay me back for what you did today.”

He let the pause stretch out until Blake looked away from him. He rose from his seat and groped his way around the table, until he was in front of Blake. Putting his hand against the wall and leaning up to an ear hidden beneath her bow, he whispered, “Jaune’s going to ask you out on a date tomorrow, and you’re going to accept.”


	6. Picture Imperfect

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welp, I was just about to go to bed when I remembered that I hadn’t posted this yet. Well, here it is!

**\----------**

In the early morning, the first-year students started team combat sessions with Doctor Oobleck. Russell, Sky, and Dove practiced a team maneuver where Russell used Sky’s halberd and Dove’s sword as springboards, bouncing back and forth between them and throwing knife after knife at Cardin. He absently swiped away the blades aimed at his armor and focused ahead on Jaune’s group. They were still arguing over the names of their maneuvers, with Nora interrupting Jaune’s exasperated explanations. Despite the chaos, Pyrrha seemed more upbeat, and her feet twitched as she watched Jaune.

Cardin grinned to himself and turned his attention to his teammates. He watched Russell’s trajectory a few times before throwing his mace. Though the weapon missed, Russell panicked and landed wrong on Sky’s halberd. The haft slipped in between Russell’s feet, and his groin slammed into it.

Though his aura took the brunt of the blow, Russell swore as he hobbled around bow-legged. Cardin walked over and leant him a shoulder.

“You have to be ready for projectiles,” Cardin said loudly as Oobleck walked by. “It doesn’t matter if you dodge the blow when you land wrong.”

“Did you really have to do that?” wheezed Russell.

“Just be thankful that didn’t happen on Dove’s sword.” Cardin leaned closer and whispered, “Think you can do it after class?”

Russell patted the pocket that held his scroll. “Like you said, no camera at the ventilation shaft. I can slip in and out before anyone notices.”

“Get caught, and you’re on your own.”

Russell grimaced. “I won’t get caught then. You’ll make an excuse for my absence?”

“Gotcha covered.”

For the rest of the period, Cardin had them focus on two-man attacks. Dove and Russell practiced a brutal flurry against an imagined opponent while Sky poked around Cardin as he guarded him. He kept a close watch on Pyrrha, but their team had started firing a barrage behind linked shields. Her attention often drifted towards Jaune, but she never said a word.

As they headed to the locker rooms, Cardin wiped sweat from his brow and said, “Hey Russell, get me a soda, would you?”

Russell feigned a frown and asked, “What kind?”

“Grape. Get it to me by next class.”

“Grape it is. Anyone want anything while I’m out?”

Both Sky and Dove shook their heads. Russell sprinted through the locker rooms and took off at a dead run through the empty halls.

Cardin loitered around the entrance to the locker rooms, pretending to check his scroll. Team RWBY went to the locker rooms with Weiss trailing behind, and the spy was another twenty feet behind them. Taking a slip of paper out of his pocket, Cardin strolled forward while looking at his scroll. He bumped into Weiss and knocked her over.

“Hey, watch where –” He looked down and feigned surprise. “I beg your pardon, heiress. Please allow me to help you up.”

Yang and Blake both scowled at him as he offered his hand, while Ruby hid behind her sister. He angled his hand so Team RWBY wouldn’t see it, but the spy would. Weiss took his hand with a frown, and her eyes widened when she felt the paper. He left it in her hands after he pulled her onto her feet.

The spy hurried away and took his scroll out. Cardin smiled at the retreating figure, made a formal bow to Weiss, and hurried into the locker room. Dove and Sky were waiting with their uniforms and textbooks. Cardin opened up Russell’s locker and took out all his stuff before changing into his own uniform. He activated his Semblance and hefted both stacks.

As they went to Port’s lecture, Russell sprinted around a corner and stopped next to Cardin.

“Clothes, now,” he huffed. Cardin held out Russell’s stack, and his shadow swallowed the whole pile. It crept onto his skin and writhed like a horde of ants. When his shadow slid down to his feet, his gym clothes were gone, the uniform in its place, and the stack of textbooks was neatly held in his hands. His tie was crooked and two of the buttons were undone, but he otherwise looked as though he had changed with them. A grape soda shot out of the shadow, and Cardin caught it.

“Thanks for that,” Russell said. “I forgot to turn off the flash.”

Pressure built up in the back of Cardin’s skull, as though he were lifting weights with his head. Before Cardin could ask what had happened, footsteps clattered behind them. A pack of Huntresses stormed around the corner. Nora, wearing only her bra and panties, led the pack with her hammer. Yang, still in her gym clothes, was not far behind, followed by a dozen others in various states of dress. Ruby and Weiss had the rear, both with their full uniform on, and both Blake and Pyrrha had blended in with the other girls.

“Death to the pervert!” Nora roared. “We’ll break his legs with his other legs! We’ll shove his scroll up his nose! We’ll feed him to the sloths!”

Yang walked up to Cardin and grabbed him by the collar. The gauntlet on her right wrist whirled as she cocked it back. “I swear, if you had anything to do with this, I’ll beat you to a bloody pulp.”

“Anything to do with what?” His skin tingled from adrenaline, but he forced an inquisitive countenance on his face.

Weiss walked up next to her. “There’s no way it was Cardin. He’s dressed in his uniform, while the creep was in gym clothes. Plus, there’s no way he would fit in the vents.” Her eyes darted back to Cardin, and she added, “Not that you’re fat, certainly not. I only comment on the broadness of your shoulders.”

Cardin chuckled and said, “No offense taken.”

Yang let go of Cardin and turned to Russell. “Well, what about him? That toothpick could definitely fit.” She peered closely at his face. “He’s sweating.”

“Hey, I just spent an hour bouncing around on weapons,” Russell said with a nervous chuckle. “Of course I’m sweating.”

“Then you didn’t do it?”

“Do what?” Cardin asked.

Nora slammed the haft of her hammer on the floor and said, “Some pervert was taking a picture of my baby!”

“Your – your what?” Weiss asked.

“My baby,” Nora said, pointing at her hammer. “Nobody takes a picture of Mister Bonebreak without my permission.”

Yang tossed her hair and stepped in front of Nora. “What she’s trying to say is, some creep was taking pictures of us in the locker room. Now, take out your scrolls.”

Cardin shrugged and handed her his. Sky and Dove did the same. Russell reached into his uniform’s pocket and handed Nora his own scroll. After a quick examination of the pictures, they handed them back.

“Looks like you’re not it,” Yang said, “But if I find out it was one of you, I’ll make that parent-teacher conference look like a friendly game of tag.” She looked around and said, “We better tell Goodwitch, I don’t think we’re going to catch him. And Nora, get some clothes on.”

Nora saluted her with her hammer. “On it, captain!”

“I think it would be best if we sent a representative to tell Professor Goodwitch,” Weiss said. “I will go and explain the situation in full detail to her.”

“I’ll tag along,” Yang said.

“You still need to get dressed,” Weiss pointed out. “I, on the other hand, am already prepared for the next class.”

“Ooh!” Ruby raised a hand. “Can I go? I got all my clothes on.”

Weiss glanced nervously at her partner, and one hand went to her pocket. Cardin felt the temptation to help Weiss get some alone time to read the note, but instead, he decided to watch how Weiss would handle it.

“I – I don’t see why not,” Weiss said. “But we better hurry. We’re already going to be late as it is.”

“On it!” In a flash of rose petals, Ruby vanished, leaving a gust of air in her wake. Weiss blinked after her partner as she raced down the hall. She ran, calling for Ruby to slow down, and vanished around a corner.

Team CRDL lingered behind as the Huntresses split to get dressed or go to class. When they were alone, Cardin slumped against a wall. A cold, hollow sensation clutched his chest as his skin burned with adrenaline.

“You okay?” Sky asked.

“Just a headache,” he said. “No big deal.”

Sweat poured down his brow, but he wiped it away by pretending to rub his temples. The back of his neck prickled as though a Grimm were watching him from the shadows.

“We better go,” Dove said. “Class is about to start.”

Cardin propped himself up and took a step forward. Russell wrapped his arm around his shoulder, providing support while pretending to lean on him.

“Jeez, thought I was done for. Thanks for the save.”

“You kept the flash on?” Cardin growled.

“I didn’t think to check it, since mine is normally off. But hey, at least we got away with it, right?”

“Did you plant the scroll on him?”

Russell shook his head. “I’ll catch him when class starts.”

Professor Port launched right into his lecture as though half the seats weren’t empty. Only when a large group of girls, led by Nora and Yang, entered the room, did he stop and stare at the empty seats in surprise.

“Ladies! What could possibly be the meaning of this tardiness?” With a raised eyebrow, he asked, “Were you just having a Professor Port fan-club meeting?”

Nora made an exaggerated ‘bleagh’ sound while Yang rolled her eyes. “Some creep was taking pictures of us in the locker room.”

“It wasn’t me, I swear!” Port shouted. He looked around and awkwardly cleared his throat. “Sorry, old habit. So, you were saying that some rapscallion was taking pictures of you in the locker room?”

“Yeah, from the ventilation shaft.”

“The shaft,” Port murmured, “Wish I could’ve fit in there.” He caught Yang’s flat stare and coughed. “Yes, well, don’t worry, leave it to the faculty. We will have the culprit found in no time!”

The spy, still in his gym clothes, walked up to the door. “Hey, what’s going on?”

He flinched under the collective baleful gaze of a dozen Huntresses.

Yang held out her hand. “Scroll. Now.”

“Wait, what?”

Cardin hissed into Russell’s ear. “Do it now, hurry!”

“Already on it,” he murmured back. His shadow wove in between the desks, darted up the spy’s leg, and wriggled into his pocket. It leapt back out the second the spy’s hand reached for his scroll. Cardin swallowed and put a hand to his chest as he watched Yang tap through the scroll’s menu.

“Well,” Yang said, “Looks like you’ve got good taste. I really like the lighting.”

Cardin let out a relieved sigh. On a whim, he took out his scroll and started recording. One could never have too many recording of Yang losing her cool.

The spy stammered as Yang showed him the picture taken of her on his scroll.

“But – but I was just-” He took the scroll and examined it. “That’s the scroll I lost yesterday!”

“Really? You’re going for that one? I’ve heard better excuses out of Sky.”

Sky chuckled, and Russell punched him in the shoulder. “She’s got you there. Remember when you said you were just cleaning the ceiling when you were putting that bucket up on the door?”

Yang yanked it out of his hands. “Let’s see what else you got.” She flipped through a few more pictures. Her finger froze, and her eyes blazed scarlet. She turned towards Professor Port. “Excuse me, Professor, would you mind if I send this degenerate to the hospital?”

“Well, um, Yang, I really think you should-”

The spy’s aura flashed as Yang’s fist sent him flying into the first row of seats. Ren lifted his book just in time as he tumbled to a stop in front of him.

The spy raised his arms to block, but Yang grabbed both his wrists, hauled him onto his feet, and punched him in the gut. Cardin heard a rib snap as the spy cried out and crumpled onto the floor.

“Yikes,” Port said as he watched the spectacle, “She reminds me of Raven.”

“I got the scroll!” Nora shouted, waving it in the air. It showed a picture of Ruby in her spotted black underwear. “Yang, hold his nose open!”

“Nora,” Ren said, “I don’t think it will fit.”

“I’ll make it fit,” Yang said with a vicious grin. “Give it here.”

The door slammed open and fell off its hinges. Professor Goodwitch strode into the room, riding crop in hand, and leveled it at Yang. “Miss Xiao Long, what is the meaning of this?”

Weiss walked in behind her, while Ruby waited behind the safety of the doorframe. Yang wiped blood off her knuckles and pointed at the collapsed student.

“This creep took pictures of my sister. See?” She held up the scroll. Ruby shrieked from behind the doorway and buried her face in her cloak. Her face nearly matched the fabric.

Goodwitch rounded on the fallen student. “Is this true?”

Blood dribbled from the spy’s mouth as he shakily got to his feet. “I – I didn’t. I’m being framed!”

“The scroll was in his pocket,” Yang said, “And he’s still in his gym clothes.”

“I was making a phone call.”

“Really? Right after class?” Professor Goodwitch asked. “Tell me, what was so urgent that you had to make a call right away?”

The spy glanced at Cardin, but he kept his mouth shut. With his head lowered and blood dripping to the floor, he said, “Yes, I did it. I’m sorry.”

The riding crop groaned in Professor Goodwitch’s hands. Professor Port chuckled nervously and backed himself into the corner of the room.

“You will be immediately demoted to the reserves. That means Team ORNG will need a new G.” She brought up her scroll and scanned a list of names. “Oliver, your new teammate will be Miss Gala Farley. The transferal will be effective tomorrow morning. Is this understood?”

Goodwitch hardly waited for a reply before turning her attention to Yang. “I understand how this reprehensible behavior must make you feel.” With a murmur and a glance at Professor Port, she added, “Believe me, I’ve been there.” Clearing her throat, she said, “That does not excuse such violence against a fellow student.”

“But-”

“No buts! That will be another round of detentions for you.”

Cardin looked down at the scroll in his hand, still recording. After weighing his options, he raised his hands. Goodwitch’s caught the motion and her attention snapped on him.

“Do you have something to say, Mr. Winchester?”

“Yes. She had Professor Port’s permission.”

Yang, Port, and Goodwitch collectively said “What?”

He hit the playback button and fast-forwarded through it until he hit a particular line.

“Excuse me, Professor, would you mind if I send this degenerate to the hospital?”

“Well, um, Yang, I really think you should-”

Professor Port shrank beneath Goodwitch’s glare.

“Thank you for clarifying the situation, Mr. Winchester,” Glynda said. “It sounds as though Professor Port had more to say on the matter, but I can understand how Yang had misinterpreted his words as permission to avenge herself for this indecency.” She took the scroll from Yang and put it in her pocket. “Rest assured that these photos will be properly dealt with.” With an added glance at Port, she added, “I will see to it myself.”

Once Goodwitch was gone, with the spy floating in the air behind her, Yang walked up to Cardin and leaned on her desk. She slid her blood-slick hands away from his paperwork.

“Hey, that was pretty cool back there. Thanks.”

Cardin shrugged. “Just repaying the favor.”

Yang sighed and pushed away from the desk. “Couldn’t you let me think you have a heart, just for five minutes?”

“What, and make you think I might be nice again? It would be cruel of me to get your hopes up.”

Yang opened her mouth, but she looked at a loss for words. Professor Port adjusted his collar as he returned to his lectern. “Students, students. It has been an exciting day, to be sure, but now, we have to get back to studying! Now, where was I last time? Ah yes, the Vacuo incident, I remember!”

Yang returned to her seat as Port went into full-on rambling mode. He stared at his textbook, but his eyes gazed past the words, into the schemes tangled in his head. Too much had happened too fast, and already, he had some close calls. Now that he had Yang’s goodwill, he should be able to put some distance between him and Weiss, and with some evidence of Pyrrha’s distress and the removal of a spy, his father should accept that misstep.

So, if everything was going so well, why did he feel so uneasy?

The classroom felt crowded, its walls closing in on him and every student watching him out of the corner of their eye. He wanted to run, hide himself behind his book, but he couldn’t, not with so many eyes on him. Unseen watchers lurked in the shadows, dangled from the ceiling, peered in underneath the door and through the keyhole, all waiting for him to make a mistake.

Russell put a hand on his arm. “Hey man, you’re getting pale again.”

“Just remembering the last time Yang beat me up,” Cardin said faintly.

“That was, what, three years ago? You planned for her to do that, didn’t you?”

Cardin grinned. “I didn’t realize how hard she could punch. Otherwise, I’d have had someone else be her punching bag.”

He took a deep breath, slowly, so Russell wouldn’t notice. Everything was fine. He was overreacting to the disaster Russell had made of the framing mission. There was no reason to panic.

“You going to drink that?” Russell asked, pointing at the soda. Cardin had forgotten about it. With a nod, he snapped the tab open and drank the whole thing in one go.

Through Port’s lecture, he schooled himself to tranquility and slogged through a few pages of the book, enough to keep him ahead of the reading for a few days. Once class was over, he bolted out of his seat. He stopped himself halfway to the cafeteria, picked out a secluded doorway, and waited for Jaune to pass by. Russell had been smart enough to keep Jaune close and his teammates far away. Cardin snuck up behind Jaune and slapped him on the shoulder. A squeak escaped the smaller boy as he flinched beneath his hand.

“Cardin,” he said with a squeamish smile. “Is there something I can do for you?”

“Actually, there is,” he said with a sly whisper. “I thought of a fun little game we can play. I’ll tell you all about it on the way to lunch.”

Jaune went pale, then flushed when Cardin told him what to do. When they arrived at the cafeteria, Jaune paused by the lunch lines, fidgeting with the straps of his backpack.

“You just want me to ask Blake out? Why?”

“Because it would be funny,” Cardin said. “You know, I think I’ll have you ask Ruby out tomorrow. I wonder how Yang would react to that.”

Jaune shivered. “Please don’t, I don’t think my spine could take that.”

Cardin pretended to think for a moment. “Tell you what, do a really good job asking Blake out, and I’ll have you ask Yang out instead. That would be a lot less painful for you, believe me.”

Jaune reddened and looked down at the floor. He reached for random items off the lunch counters and heaped them on his tray. “Why are you doing this? Haven’t you humiliated me enough?”

“I’m just trying to help a friend out.” He patted Jaune on the back, and a couple bread rolls tumbled to the floor. “I noticed you weren’t having any luck with Weiss, and I figured you needed to expand your horizons a bit.”

Jaune’s eyes snapped up. “So that’s what it is? You’re doing Weiss some kind of favor? Then why not just tell me to stop asking her out?”

Cardin raised an eyebrow. “If that’s what you want to think, then go ahead. Just do what I tell you.”

Jaune’s jaw tightened, but after a few seconds, his shoulders sagged, and his head fell forward. “Yes Cardin.”

“Good. Ask her as soon as she sits down. No, wait, ask once the whole team gets in. I want to see the looks on their faces.”

Jaune groaned and nodded. Cardin waited until Jaune was well clear of the serving area before he rejoined his teammates at their table.

“Everything ready?” Sky asked.

Cardin glanced around at the other tables. Conversations buzzed around each one, but to be certain, he leaned forward and kept his voice low. “Jaune’s all set to go. Russell, you’re on camera duty. Get a shot of Pyrrha’s reaction. And no flash this time.”

Russell rolled his eyes. “It was the scroll’s fault, not mine.” He tucked into his food, shoveling mouthfuls in at a time.

“Sky, stay with Russell and make sure he doesn’t stand out.”

Sky gave him a mock salute. “Yes sir.” He ate with haste rivaling Russell’s, and within three minutes, both of them were returning their trays.

“And that leaves me here with you?” Dove asked once they were gone.

“We need to keep an eye out for Pyrrha and make sure she arrives at the perfect moment. Tap the table when you see her.”

Dove nodded. He speared food on his plate without looking at it and ate in silence. Cardin looked directly at his food as he ate. Doubts plagued him, more so with so many more eyes to watch him, so many more ears to overhear his plans, but he forced his breathing into a calm, steady rhythm.

From his peripheral vision, he watched for streams of red hair. He had a few false alarms, but after a few minutes, he found Pyrrha. Ruby was just about to reach her table, and Jaune was anxiously watching her cross the cafeteria.

“Dove, run interference on Ruby. Pretend to return your lunch tray and bump into her.”

Dove glanced at Ruby, and then at Yang. “You realize that I’m dead if she catches me.”

“Then don’t get caught.”

Dove gave him a sour look and rose. Winding his way around the cafeteria benches, Dove slowly approached Ruby as she walked towards him. A student in between them rose from his seat, pushing it out into the aisle. Without missing a step, Dove swerved around the chair and knocked into Ruby. The stack of chocolate chip cookies teetering on her tray fell to the floor.

“My cookies!” Ruby moaned as she knelt to the floor, gathering up the broken crumbs. “Ssh, don’t worry, I’ll still eat you all.”

Dove looked back at Team RWBY’s table. Yang was glaring daggers at him. He stammered as he said, “I’m sorry about that, how about I get you some more?”

Ruby’s eyes lit up. “Really? I’ll go with you!”

Pyrrha was just leaving the cafeteria. Dove hastily said, “You better get to your table before you spill more cookies. I’ll bring them over to you.”

“Oh, alright!” Ruby darted across the room and bounced in her seat. Yang leveled one last menacing stare at Dove before turning her attention to her sister.

All the pieces were in play. Jaune, setting down his tray and walking over to Team RWBY. Blake, eating in silence, her eyes on the book in her lap. Pyrrha, approaching Jaune with flushed cheeks and a firm stride. Weiss, giving her a stealthy thumbs-up from behind a textbook. So, why the anxiety?

The answer hit him like one of Yang’s punches.

Before this moment, Blake had been expendable. If she got caught, he could deny any connection to her and find someone else to do his reading. But now? With his plans around Pyrrha hanging on her feigned relationship with Jaune? The moment Blake was expelled from Beacon, Pyrrha might snap him up. He could have Jaune make her life miserable, but which of them would snap first? Jaune, without a doubt.

So, tie himself to a former White Fang terrorist, or allow himself to fall back to square one on the Pyrrha plan. He reached for his scroll, ready to give her the text. Even a refusal would do damage, as he had told his teammates, but could he afford to take half-measures? With Mistral involved, his cousin’s life could hang in the balance, and with it, his own.

Jaune approached the table. Weiss glowered up at him, and she stiffened in surprise when he walked past her. Blake looked up, without an expression on her face.

“Um, Blake? Would you, um, like to go out sometime?”

“Go out?”

Adrenaline burned at Cardin’s gut. He couldn’t tell what Blake would do. Pyrrha stopped at their table, face pale as she watched the conversation unfold.

“Yeah, I, um-” Jaune tugged at his shirt collar. “I know you really like to read books, and I, well, I like to read books. I thought it’d be fun if, if we went out to a café, and, discussed… books?”

“What time?”

Jaune stared dumbstruck at her. When he found his voice, it came out as a high-pitched squeak. “Could you repeat that please?”

“What time?” Blake repeated.

Ruby stared open-mouthed at Blake. Weiss’ eyebrows rose into her hairline. Yang smirked and said, “Didn’t think you’d be interested Blake.”

Blake shrugged. “Since he asked, I thought I’d give him a chance.”

Jaune gaped like a fish out of water. After a few moments, he swallowed and said, “How – how about tomorrow?”

“We have class tomorrow,” Blake pointed out.

“Oh. S-Saturday then? Noon?”

“Tuckson’s at noon, then.”

“Y-yeah, Tuckson’s. Sounds great.” He smiled and gave her a thumbs up. His hand trembled as though he held his shield.

Pyrrha backed away, set her tray on the nearest table, and ran out of the cafeteria. Russell returned, triumphantly holding up his scroll.

“The lighting was perfect on that shot. I think it’s my best one yet.”

Cardin looked at the scroll, but his brain didn’t register the image. “You should be a photographer.”

Sky grinned and sat down next to him. “So, she accepted. Is that good or bad?”

Cardin felt hollow inside, and his skin itched. He’d give his left arm to crawl into bed and stay there for a week.

“I have no idea.”


	7. Evasive Action

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This has been a weird week.
> 
> Had someone parking in my spot for a few nights, which meant I had to go park a few minutes away so I wouldn’t be in someone else’s spot. I left a warning on their windshield, and I’ll have them towed the next time I catch them in my spot. I could have just towed them, but I’d feel bad about that.
> 
> My computer crashed Wednesday, just after I spent an hour writing the next chapter. I spent ten minutes panicking, thinking that the hard drive just blew out on a nice computer I’ve had for a year, but luckily, not only did it come back up, but it had automatically saved 95% of what I had just written. Nice. Hadn’t backed up to a flashdrive faster in my life.
> 
> Work wasn’t too bad this week, aside from a 7 AM meeting that would’ve been followed by me working second shift had I not taken a vacation day. Had to work both days of last weekend as well, so my writing schedule was tight. Stayed up until 1AM Thursday cranking out the upcoming chapter.
> 
> As far as this story goes, I’m worried that the pacing is a bit too slow. I haven’t heard any criticisms yet, which I guess is a good sign. I can’t really know how to adjust a story and improve it if I don’t hear what people don’t like about it. It does sound like I’ve hit that perfect balance of making Cardin a hate-able character without making people hate the story, so I’ll take that victory.

**\----------**

Cardin went up to the rooftop half an hour early to make sure Blake wouldn’t be watching. He checked each tree and scoured the rooftop, even climbing over the door, but he was alone. Gusts of wind made him shiver in his gym clothes, a reminder that Vale might not get wintry snows like Atlas, but it was still unwise to venture outdoors without some sleeves.

Precisely at ten PM, Weiss crept up the stairs. She peered through a sliver of doorway, and only after seeing Cardin did she open the door. To Cardin’s envy, she had on a full Beacon uniform, complete with long, thick sleeves.

“No one followed you?” she asked.

“I got here early to make sure no one was listening in.” He peered over the roof’s edge, at his own window. Russell was leaning on the windowsill with his scroll in his hand. “My window’s closed, but we need to keep it down. They’ll hear if we speak too loudly.”

“Dove approached me after class,” Weiss said. “He wanted to know what we were talking about.”

“He’s not the only one, unfortunately,” Cardin said. “I asked you to come up here because I needed to warn you.”

“Why, did something happen?”

“There was a spy in the school. They caught a picture of us coming into gym together. Rumors are already starting to spread.”

Weiss frowned and ran a hand through her ponytail. “Is that really such a big deal?”

“A ducal heir and the heiress of a powerful company had a private conversation together. There are all kinds of rumors flying around. Secret business proposals, international political maneuvers, marriage contracts, that kind of thing.”

Weiss flushed and looked away. “Who is this spy? We could report them to Ozpin.”

He snorted. It was a reflexive gesture, and he regretted it the moment he made it, but some quick thinking gave him the words to work with it. “They don’t care about one spy. They’d just get another. Besides, the spy has already been dealt with.”

Weiss’ brow furrowed. Shock flashed in her eyes, and she took a step back. “That creep – wait, so he was framed?”

Cardin smiled inwardly as he evaluated what to say next. “He admitted to taking the pictures, didn’t he?”

“Yes, but he didn’t do it, right?” She stalked forward and glowered at him. “You just ruined that student’s career and tore up his team.”

“And he would’ve gotten us both killed, Weiss.”

Weiss went pale, and the scar over her eye glinted in the moonlight. “That’s absurd. You’re being paranoid.”

“Being paranoid is the only thing that keeps me alive. Every bite of food I eat, every sip I take, every person that passes behind me or offers to shake my hand could be the death of me. Isn’t it the same for you?”

Weiss looked away. “Well, the White Fang would, but that’s because of how my father runs things. Faunus die everyday in the Schnee Dust mines, their wages are low, and they’re dismissed at the first sign of disobedience. Once that is changed, the White Fang will no longer have a reason to keep raiding our convoys.”

Cardin winced and thought of the scroll recording their every word. “There would be people here that would disagree with you strongly enough to consider the merits of letting your brother inherit instead.”

Weiss pursed her lips and fell silent. Cardin brought up one hand to rub his temples while he considered how much to reveal.

“My family’s hardship is no secret to anyone of importance in Vale. That is the only reason I can tell you what I am about to say.”

He couldn’t read the emotion in Weiss’ eyes. It might be doubt, or concern, maybe interest or curiosity, but it was what wasn’t in her expression that warmed his chest, no hunger for advantage, no calculation, no scheming.

“I am the first in line to inherit the Duchy of Winchester, and with it, two seats on the Council of Lords. My cousin, Crimson, is second in line. After that is Clemont Cirilian, the second son of the Duke of Cirilian.”

“I take it that this Cirilian Duke would want him to inherit instead of you?”

“Exactly. However, that line of succession only occurs if both myself and my cousin die before my father. Direct cousins of the current duke inherit before those once removed, and since my grandfather married Duke Charles’ sister, that would make Clemont his first cousin. Those without titles inherit before those with titles, a measure taken to prevent council seats from being gathered up under one family, which is why it passes to the second son first.”

“What happens if your father dies first?” She thought for a moment and said, “That would make Clemont your first cousin, once removed, correct?”

“Yes. Manfred Montblanc, the only son of the Duke of Montblanc, is my first cousin, as my father married the Duke of Montblanc’s sister. He would be second in line should my father die and I inherit. The title would pass to some other Montblanc after.”

“I take it if your cousin inherits, someone else is closer in line?”

“A branch family of the Winchesters. That’s why my father has him staying abroad. He wouldn’t last more than a year in Vale, even with the most powerful families behind us, and either me or my father would be next.”

Weiss stepped back until she hit the door. “Is it always like that in Vale?”

“Not usually. Most families aim for around seven children to make assassinations less practical.” He feigned a forlorn expression and leaned against the door next to Weiss. “My mother died when I was four, during a miscarriage. My father hasn’t been able to remarry, since the Montblancs would withdraw their support and I’d become a target. Our only option is to play the two families off of each other, keep my cousin safe, and arrange my marriage as soon as possible.”

“You don’t get a choice?” Weiss asked.

Cardin chuckled sourly. “Of course I have a choice. I can marry whoever my father chooses for me, or I can have some poison poured in my wine.”

Weiss put a hand on his shoulder. Through the fabric of his uniform, he felt the warmth of her fingers. After a long silence, she said, “You should run away.”

“Like you did?”

He cursed himself the moment those words passed his lips. She stiffened, and her fingers slipped from his shoulder. “I-”

“Sorry, that was uncalled for.”

“No, you’re right.” Weiss looked up at him. Cardin offered her a hand, and she took it. Her fingers intertwined with his. “You don’t have to do what your father says. You make your own decisions. If you want to stay under your father’s thumb and do whatever he tells you, that’s fine, but if you want to live your own life, if you want to be free, then go, and don’t let anything stop you. I could help you.”

He shook with the effort to keep himself from laughing. Weiss interpreted it as a strangled sob. “I know this must be hard for you, and it feels like you’re powerless, but if you put your mind to it, you can do anything.”

“It’s not that. How long do you think my father would last if I disappeared?” He tightened his grip on Weiss’ hand until he could feel her pulse. “He would have to remarry, and the more powerful families would have him killed so the cousin would inherit. My being here is the only reason he is alive.”

“I – I had no idea.” Tears welled up in her eyes, and she brought her other hand up to wipe them away. “Does he really mean that much to you?”

Cardin hesitated before giving his answer, thinking of the scroll in the window. With a deep breath, he said, “He’s my dad, isn’t he?”

Weiss buried her eyes in her sleeve. After a minute, she rubbed her eyes and looked up at him. They were a touch red, and moisture glistened around them.

“I’m sorry. I misjudged you. I thought you were just an entitled bully. Yang had all kinds of stories about you from primary school.”

With a chuckle, Cardin said, “I’m sure she did. We never got along when we were kids, and we were always in the same class.”

Weiss smiled. “She said you would frame her for all kinds of trouble so the teachers would think she was a bad student.”

“Yeah, she always likes to blame someone else for her inability to control her emotions. When I was thirteen, before I had my Aura unlocked, she broke my nose. I had to get an implant so it wouldn’t stay crooked.”

Weiss gasped. “No way, really?”

“Go ahead, feel.” He leaned down. Her hand rose, and she gingerly pressed against the tip of his nose.

“Why did she do that?”

“She got mad because she thought I tripped her during a parent-teacher conference. Truth is, her shoes were untied, and I just happened to be standing next to her when they got caught on a table leg. Her dad had to restrain her before she did anything else.”

Her fingers slid past his nose and to his cheek. The warmth of her fingers seeped into his face. She jerked her hand away and blushed.

“I can’t believe I trusted her.”

Cardin touched the spot where her fingers had been. A gust of wind blew the warmth away. “I don’t think she’s a bad person. She’s hot-headed, impulsive, and holds grudges, but she always sticks up for other people. That’s how it all started in the first place.”

He explained how his father had instructed him to harass the other students in the class, starting with name-calling and tripping people in hallways, and working his way up to blackmail and convincing others to do the harassment for him. As he was about to relate the story of how he got a teacher to retire, he remembered the recording and diverted the conversation.

“How did everything with Pyrrha work out?”

Weiss balled her hands into fists. “Augh, I can’t believe him! Pyrrha was going to talk to him, but then he asks Blake out, and now she’s in tears over the whole thing. Nora threatened to break Blake’s legs when she told me!”

“Yeah, she says she’ll break mine too.” He threw in a grimace and said, “That sucks, but she can always try again tomorrow, right?”

“No, I haven’t even gotten to the worst part yet. Blake said yes! They’re – they’re dating now, I think? I don’t know, the point is Pyrrha can’t ask him out now.”

“Well, look on the bright side, at least he won’t be asking you out anymore, right?”

Weiss whipped her ponytail around and caught it in one hand. She rubbed strands of hair between her fingers. “Not if it makes her so miserable. I don’t understand, why would he ask someone else all of the sudden?”

Her eyes widened, and she took a step towards him. Looking straight up at him, she said, “You’ve been bullying Jaune lately. Did you tell him to ask Blake out?”

He felt equal parts shock and amusement at her accusation. Assuming Weiss would be naïve enough to miss the connection was a mistake on his part. He only had a few seconds to decide whether to deny it or try explaining himself. He felt that he could keep her friendship either way, but a sinking sensation of dread in his gut told him a wrong move might have dire consequences.

“I was hoping you wouldn’t realize that, but you saw right through me.”

“How could you? You even had the gall to involve me in your scheme!” She turned towards the door and said, “We’re done here. Good night, Cardin.”

Again, he felt a terrible decision lay before him, as though he were attempting to cross a frozen stream. One slip, and he’d fall through the ice.

“My cousin’s life was on the line,” he said softly. “I had no choice.”

“You always have a choice.” She turned back around and studied him. He kept his eyes down and trained his face into a subdued, blank expression. “I can see how yours haven’t been easy. What do you mean, exactly?”

He explained the politics behind the Vytal festival and how the fate of those games could turn allied families against the Winchesters, giving as much detail as he could without incriminating himself on the recording.

“I should have told you from the start,” Cardin said, “But without knowing what connections you might have, I couldn’t take that risk. I apologize.”

“No, I understand,” Weiss said. “I thought you wanted to talk, well, because you wanted to. If it’s just for the sake of your scheme, then you don’t need to keep up this farce, do you?”

As she opened the door, Cardin strode forward and gently placed his hand on her shoulder. She flinched but didn’t move away from his touch.

“I do want to talk,” he said. “It may have started out as part of a scheme, but now it finally feels as though I have someone I can be honest with. If you stay, I promise not to involve you in a scheme without explaining it to you first and asking your permission, and to only do so if my life depends on it.”

She took his hand as she turned around. “I’ll stay then. I’m sorry I doubted you again.”

“Yeah, there’s times where I doubt myself. I wonder if I’m becoming just as bad as my dad and the rest of them. Maybe I will, if I keep doing what he tells me to do.”

“As long as you care about other people, you will never be like them.” She studied his hand before she realized what she was doing and dropped it. Cardin entertained the idea of stringing her along, but he felt it was too likely to get him killed.

“You seem flustered. Is there anything on your mind?”

Her blush grew deeper, and she looked away. “No, not at all.”

Cardin sighed and put one hand on a wall. “Weiss, I’m worried that you’re developing feelings for me. If that’s how it is, I can’t keep talking with you.”

Her eyes widened, and she backed away. “No, that’s not it at all! I just – I’ve never had someone I could honestly talk to either. Well, except Klein, but he was a servant. Winter left when I was little, and Whitley is just like father.” She finished that with a scowl. “My mother’s drunk all the time, and all the other servants don’t say more than two words to me unless I command it, and then it’s like talking to a scroll.” She stared up at him and said, “I have no interest in pursuing anything other than my studies at Beacon at this time.”

“Then I’ll hold you to that.” He mentally congratulated himself on getting that on tape. Play that in the right ears, and his father might be able to put the SDC under pressure. “So, where were we?”

“Oh, right. I was just thinking, do you have Blake involved in your scheme as well? I thought it was really weird that she accepted out of the blue like that.”

A cold shock engulfed him, and his chest tightened. “That would’ve been ideal,” he said, “But my plan was to have him ask Yang out the next day. I thought she might take him, if she thought he was the sort who was just looking for something casual and didn’t care who it was.” He gave her a shrewd grin and added, “Or if he might ask Ruby next.”

Weiss chuckled. “I could only imagine how she’d react to that.”

“I don’t have to imagine,” Cardin said. Cold sweat ran down his neck, but he felt as though he could breathe again. “The last guy that asked Ruby out went head-first out the nearest window. He would’ve died if he didn’t have his Aura unlocked.”

“Yeah, that sounds like her.”

He looked at the time on his scroll. “I better leave right now. I told my teammates I was going for a run, so I’ll work up a sweat before going back. You should return to your room right away. Maybe say you went to study somewhere quiet?”

“I’ll say I wanted some fresh air on the roof.”

He thought of Blake and said, “Don’t draw attention to this area.” He looked down at Beacon’s grounds and said, “Try the garden area over there. One of those benches. Students don’t usually wander through there at night.”

As Weiss walked over, he glanced down and cursed himself when he saw Russell’s scroll. She stopped a few feet back from the edge and didn’t notice the open window.

“That will work.” She held out her hand to Cardin, but before he could take it, she flinched and drew away. “It was nice to speak with you. Is there any way we can do this again?”

“Give me your scroll number. I’ll text you asking for help on homework. Will that do?”

Weiss considered it for a moment. “That can be arranged. Should I include a few others in the study group so we don’t stand out?”

Cardin smiled. “Great idea. Just don’t invite Yang if you know what’s good for my health.”

Weiss giggled and took out her scroll. Cardin held up his own, and they exchanged numbers.

“I’ll let you know as soon as I can arrange it. Have a good night, Cardin.”

Cardin didn’t linger to check on Russell, nor did he go to the exercise room downstairs. Instead, he crossed Beacon grounds to a small, secluded courtyard on the edge of campus. Blake was perched in a tree, reading from a book.

“About time you showed up. Why did you have me come here at eight if you were going to be this late?”

She dropped to the ground and drew her weapon. Cardin shifted to a fighting stance and watched her feet.

“Why do you want me to teach you?” she asked.

“You’re the best in the class at dodging attacks. Thanks to Yang, Goodwitch seems to think I’m almost as good as you. It’d be convenient to keep it that way.”

“How soon do you want to be good at it?”

“A couple weeks, when she starts a new course on evasive maneuvers.”

Blake snorted. “Really? It takes years of practice to get as good as I am.”

“Then we don’t have any time to lose, do we?”

Blake’s grin and the subtle shuffle of her feet was the only warning he had. Her hand flicked forward, and one of Gambol Shroud’s blades whirled in the air towards him. Cardin slid aside. The gust of wind left in the weapon’s wake made goosebumps on his skin.

The attack continued for ten minutes, with Blake darting in to swipe at him, leaping back and firing spurts of bullets, swinging blades by the cord that bound them, and vanishing into the trees to strike at him from a new angle. His aura took a beating, but he dodged most of her efforts.

Breathing heavily, Blake dropped from a tree limb and landed in front of him, weapon sheathed behind her back. “That actually wasn’t bad. Why didn’t you dodge that much during our match?”

“Kinda hard to when you’re lugging around armor and a mace. Anything that I can work on?”

A sudden gust whipped across the courtyard, tugging on Blake’s bow. She slapped it back into place with both hands and huddled down. Once the wind passed, she straightened and said, “Your footwork is really good, but you don’t move the rest of your body as much as you should. Try dodging my attacks while keeping your feet planted.”

No sooner than the words were out of her mouth, she drew Gambol Shroud, latched both blades into a single, longer form, and swiped at him. He backed away from the first few blows, but on the third swipe, he planted his feet and bent his knees. The blade grazed his chest, leaving a small slice in his shirt without nicking his Aura. He spent the next ten minutes wobbling around, tripping over himself, and losing chunks of Aura to her blade. His lungs burned, and his sweaty shirt clung to him.

“Let’s see how you dodge now,” Blake said, and lunged at him. He was forced to sidestep, leaning back to keep the blade from skewering his ribs. He had a mere flicker of Aura left, but she pressed onward, her blade darting in and out, slashing one way and the next, too fast for his eyes to track. He moved on instinct, bobbing and weaving as the sword whistled around his head. A loose paving stone tripped him up, and Gambol Shroud carved out the last of his Aura.

He stumbled back and regained his footing, but the sword raced towards his neck. Too exhausted from talking with Weiss and the earlier exercises to properly feel fear, he moved in a state of numb relaxation, always an inch away from the point of death as he whirled and bobbed around Blake’s attacks. A hot, thin line burned on his right arm, and a warm trickle reached his fingers. Another slash bit into his chest, and a pale red stain blossomed in the sweat-soaked shirt.

Wind whistled as Blake tossed half her weapon to the side. The other half lunged at him, driving him back. Cardin hadn’t even noticed her split the weapon, nor could he tell where the blade had gone. A few paces later, a cord pressed against the back of his legs, and too late did he notice that Blake now held the other half, trailing the cord behind it. As he toppled backwards, Blake reassembled the weapon into a single piece and leveled it at him. His thoughts drifted to how the cord came behind him, thrown in an arc so it looped around a tree on either side of him and wound its way back to her hand. He’d have to try that if he survived.

The tip of Gambol Shroud prodded his neck, putting pressure on a throbbing vein without piercing the skin. Through a shrinking shroud of darkness along his peripheral vision, he saw Blake, standing over him, eyes glowing like moon shards. Her ribbon was gone, and her two feline ears stood tall, tilting with each gust of wind.

“You better cover those up,” Cardin said between gasps for air. “Never know who might be looking.”

The sword fell away as Blake reached up with her free hand and felt her ears. She buried the point of Gambol Shroud into the dirt as she fished a spare ribbon out of her pocket and went through the intricate motions of tying it in place.

“So, how did I do?”

“Not great,” Blake said without looking at him. “Your movements are too clumsy and you’re always off balance. You also get tripped up easily if the footing’s bad.”

“Anything I’m doing right?” Cardin asked sourly.

Blake regarded him for a moment as she tightened the bow. Her brows furrowed as the ribbon scrunched up her ears. “Well, you’re far better on your feet than I expected, and you know to keep moving.” She gave him a wry smile. “Just know I was really taking it easy on you.”

Cardin fired back with his own smile. “Ready for your date with Jaune?”

Disgust twisted her features. “I can’t believe you’re making me go out with him. I’d almost rather – never mind.” She ran her fingers over the bow and tested the knots. “How long are you going to have me string him along?”

“As long as you want to stay out of jail,” Cardin said. “Try to make sure the date goes well.”

Blake snorted. “With him stammering every time he talks to me? Yeah, that’ll go well. And come to think of it, I don’t even think Tuckson’s is a café. It’s just some bookstore that came to mind.”

Cardin consulted his scroll. “Speaking of books, we have some time left before curfew, and I’d like to make the most of it.”

By the time they were done reading, Cardin’s aura had patched up his cuts. With two minutes to spare, Cardin returned to his room to find Russell listening to the recording.

“How’d it turn out?” Cardin asked as he balled up his t-shirt and stashed it in his laundry pile. He glanced at Dove and Sky, but both were engrossed in their scrolls.

“Like a work of art. I already sent him a copy.”

“Good. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I think I’ll sleep for a week. I might’ve taken the ‘go for a run’ cover-up a bit too far.”

Russell came back with a quip of his own, but Cardin had passed out the moment his head hit the pillow.


	8. Going Out

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not a bad week, all told, but I had a few foreign material incidents that gave me some hectic nights. Nothing that ended up being too serious, but with missing pieces of hard plastic, it’s easy for those to become lengthy hazardous holds.
> 
> This chapter will not be from Cardin’s perspective, but Blake’s. I debated not changing the perspective, but fact is, it’s more efficient from a storytelling perspective to get into Blake’s headspace a bit, and I thought it’d be more fun to get her take on the following events. Again, thoughts and critique are always appreciated.

**\----------**

That entire Saturday afternoon, Ruby had bombarded Blake with constant questions about the upcoming date with Jaune as she searched through Yang’s clothes for something wearable. She would have gone with her usual black vest and white undershirt, but Yang had asked if she was going to a date or a funeral, a distinction Blake couldn’t see, and promptly dragged her to an oversized suitcase packed with Yang’s various party-going outfits. 

Yang watched from the corner of the room, encouraging her to try the skimpiest articles, such as a low-cropped yellow shirt and brown shorts tight and high enough to pass for underwear. Every time Blake tried picking something and running with it, Yang planted herself in front of the door, arms crossed, with a stony expression in her eyes that said she’d force her into clothes if she had to tie her to the bed. 

When Weiss walked into the room and fixed Yang with a cold stare, Blake would’ve welcomed another argument. Instead, the heiress surveyed the room, gave an aggrieved huff, and walked out. Yang glared at the open doorway and stormed after her. Ruby had tried to take Yang’s role as professional fashionista, but Blake convinced her to settle for the yellow shirt, paired with a more modest, if more wild, black leather jacket, and a pair of glossy black pants with fashionable tears that left her thighs feeling drafty.

Blake arrived at Tuckson’s an hour early, hoping to get some quiet reading away from Ruby’s incessant chatter, but the moment she walked in the door, she found Jaune browsing the comics section, reading a recent edition of Vav. She tried to back out, but for once, her stealth had failed her.

“Blake!” The comic slipped from Jaune’s fingers, and he fumbled after it. He leaned too far forward and would have fallen into the comic stand had Blake not rushed forward and grabbed his arm.

“Uh, thanks for that.” Jaune blushed red enough to match Ruby. He looked at the time on his scroll. “You’re really early.”

“So are you.”

“Uh, right.” He glanced around the bookstore and scratched at his neatly combed, thoroughly gelled hair. “I was thinking that I’d get here early to, uh, get a feel for the place and look over their menu, but, well, they don’t have a menu. Or seats. Or food.” His hands shot up in a placating gesture. “Not that it’s a problem, I was just thinking that dates usually, well, go out for food, or something? We can stay here if you want, or maybe we could go somewhere else if you want..”

Blake drew the leather jacket tighter around herself. “I don’t really date much, I just picked the first thing that came to mind. Do you have any ideas?”

“Well, there was this tea and coffee place just down the street,” Jaune said, gesturing out the window with his thumb. Maybe that would work?”

“Tea sounds fine.”

“Tea it is then. I don’t like coffee either, too bitter for me.”

“I like coffee. It just seems weird to drink it in the afternoon.”

“Ah.” Jaune’s eyes darted all over the place as an awkward silence settled between them. His gaze stopped on her jacket, and dropped a touch lower to the jeans. “You look really good.”

She resisted the urge to cover up her thighs and internally swore at Yang. “Thanks.” Her attention went to Jaune’s attire, and she cringed. He had on a Pumpkin Pete hoodie and a pair of jeans with a ketchup stain that he had tried unsuccessfully to rub out. “You look good too.”

“You don’t have to lie to me,” Jaune said with a self-deprecating chuckle. “All my other clothes vanished the night before. My teammates tried to help me find them, but all I had left was what I had slept in. At least I wasn’t wearing my onesie.”

“Was it Cardin’s doing?” she asked with a growl.

Jaune went pale and looked away. Blake cursed herself for being an idiot, but she couldn’t think of what else to say.

“I don’t think so, actually,” he said quietly. “Well, unless he has a way of getting past the locks on the doors. I probably just forgot them in the laundry and someone moved them out of the way.” He furrowed his brow. “But I usually do my laundry tomorrow, and we would’ve seen it in the laundry if someone had moved it aside.” Jaune sighed. “Yeah, it probably was Cardin.”

“Why do you do what he says?” Blake asked. She felt the urge to bang her head against the thickest, heaviest book she could find in the store, anything to keep her tongue from running farther ahead of her.

Jaune froze up, and his eyes fell to the floor. “Well,” he said stiffly, “We’re friends, and friends mess around with each other.”

By sheer force of will, Blake kept herself from pressing the point. “You said something about tea?”

Jaune blinked. “Oh, right, the tea.” He glanced back at the comics. “Uh, yeah, let’s go!” 

If nothing else, Blake could at least say he had good taste in dating venues. The café Jaune had picked out sat on a busy street corner. Giant glass windows fronted two of its walls, giving a clear view of the booths and tables inside. The place had a muted décor that made any kind of clothes fit its laid-back atmosphere, and enough people were inside to keep them from standing out without being too crowded.

They seated themselves at a booth far away from the door. A waitress took their order and returned in two minutes with their beverages and a platter of cakes.

“Fast service,” Blake said as she sipped her tea. It was a bit bland but drinkable.

Jaune tore open a packet of sugar and dumped it in his. “Yeah, it was.”

Blake studied her tea while Jaune stirred his. For a minute, the only sound from their booth was the clinking of the spoon as it spun around the ceramic mug.

“You’re from Atlas, right?” Jaune asked.

Blake was taken aback a moment and nearly said Menagerie before she remembered her cover. “Yes.”

“What is that like, compared to here?”

“Cold.”

Jaune waited for more, but Blake had nothing else to say. She had only been there a few months and didn’t dare say anything for fear of contradicting herself.

“Oh. Uh, yeah, I hear it gets pretty cold up there.” He cleared his throat. “So, do you have any family?”

“Yes, I do.”

Jaune slapped himself in the face. “Stupid question, I know. Could you tell me about them?”

“Not much to tell,” Blake said, treating each word like steps through a minefield. “My dad was a trader and my mom stayed at home. I don’t have any siblings.”

“Cool. I’ve got seven sisters.”

He seemed crestfallen when Blake didn’t respond to that statement. “I guess it’s not that cool. Anyways, my dad was a Huntsman, and my mom stayed home with us. My older sisters would help out with chores and cooking and stuff, and I helped watch my little sisters.”

“Sounds like you miss them.”

“Yeah, I guess I do. I wish I could talk to them.”

Blake paused with the mug halfway to her lips. “Why? Did you get in a fight with your parents?”

“No, it’s not that. It’s just – they didn’t want me to be a Huntsman. My dad said it was way too dangerous and I’d get myself killed during Initiation.” Jaune chuckled sourly. “He was almost right about that one.”

“They’re probably really worried about you.”

“You think I don’t know that?” The mug trembled in his hand, and tea sloshed onto his hoodie. “Sorry, I know I should call them and let them know I’m okay, but, well, my dad would come, and he’d drag me back home.”

“Tell him it’s what you want to do. He would understand.”

Jaune’s voice was a bare whisper rippling the surface of his tea, but Blake’s keen hearing picked it up. “It’s not.”

“It’s not?” Blake asked.

Jaune flinched and looked up at her. “I – I grew up wanting to do a lot of different things. I thought I wanted to be a blacksmith, but I thought the forge was too hot. I tried being a musician, but I got bored of memorizing notes and scales. You name it, farmer, artist, writer, scientist, I tried it all and lost interest. Then, I thought I’d try being a Huntsman.” Jaune sank into his chair. “That’s the one time my dad yelled at me. He would’ve let me be anything else, but not a Huntsman. I think that’s the one reason I kept with it, just to see if I could prove him wrong about me.” A tear rolled down his cheek and disappeared into his tea. “He wasn’t wrong. Coming here was the biggest mistake I ever made. I know I don’t fit in. Hell, I would’ve died if it wasn’t for Pyrrha. And yet, here I am, still trying to make it work.”

Blake felt as though she had just stepped on a puppy. She debated telling him to go home anyways, to face his parents after running away, but could she take the same advice?

“If you want to make it at Beacon, you need help. You need someone who can teach you how to use that sword and shield.”

Jaune shook his head. “I have to do this on my own.”

Blake snorted. “How? By watching Spruce Willis movies and reading self-help guides on the network? Beacon has teachers for a reason. No one gets good at anything without having someone to learn from. No one. I learned from someone, hell, even Pyrrha needed someone to teach her. I understand that you don’t want to be a burden, but if you don’t have someone help you get stronger, that’s all you will ever be.”

Jaune groaned and rested his head on the table. “I messed up. Pyrrha was willing to help me, and I threw it in her face.”

“Apologize and ask her to teach you. It’s not too late.”

“After what I said? No way. She has to think I’m pathetic. She hasn’t even said two words to me since it happened, and yesterday, she wouldn’t even be in the same room as me. She skipped classes too.” He drained his mug and slammed it on the table. “I have to be the worst team leader in Beacon.”

“Do you have any problems with Ren and Nora?”

“Well, Ren is Ren and Nora is Nora. They’re kinda their own thing. Nora hasn’t said much to me lately either, and Ren, well, Ren doesn’t say much at all.”

“Sounds like you’re doing better than my team.” She sipped her tea and found that it had gone tepid. “Weiss and Yang have been at each other’s throats lately, and every time Ruby tries to settle them down, Weiss gets furious, shouts about how they’re ganging up on her, and storms out.” 

“That’s awful. What are they arguing about?”

She debated telling them that Cardin was the cause of all the fighting, but that would put the conversation back in dangerous territory. “Yang thinks that Weiss is too stuck-up because she’s the heiress of a large company, and Weiss thinks Yang is judging her unfairly. It doesn’t help that Weiss keeps saying how she should’ve been made the leader.”

“Well, maybe she should have. Ruby is only fifteen, after all.” He quickly raised his hands. “No offense to her or anything, but it’s a really hard job. Maybe Weiss would be better at it?”

Blake rolled her eyes. “She wouldn’t. Weiss really is too stuck-up. The only reason I’m not arguing with them is I’m too smart to say anything.”

“Well, maybe you should.” Jaune twirled the spoon around his empty mug, making a metallic scrape that pricked Blake’s ears. “If Weiss won’t listen to Yang or Ruby, maybe she needs to hear it from you. Be respectful, maybe take Weiss aside and recommend some changes she can make. It can’t be any fun for her to keep arguing, and I’m willing to bet she only needs some advice to push her in the right direction.” The spoon stopped, and Jaune leaned forward on his elbows. “Talk to Yang first and try to argue it from Weiss’ perspective. Then talk to Weiss. Don’t mention any of Yang’s points, just use your own. That way, she’ll see you as an outside perspective, rather than someone on Yang’s side.”

Blake absently sipped her tea as Jaune’s words sank in. “Sounds like good advice. How do you know all that?”

“I grew up with seven sisters. They’d get in fights every day.” He smiled and leaned back in his chair. “One time, my two oldest sisters had a huge fight, and for weeks, they wouldn’t talk to each other. It was something about how one sister was talking with the other’s boyfriend. Mom tried telling them to make up, but of course that didn’t work. So, I talked to both of them, heard each side of the story, brought them together, and told my oldest sister that if her boyfriend couldn’t talk to any other girls, then it would only be fair if she didn’t get to talk to any other boys, myself included.”

“That worked?” Blake asked.

“It did after I gave her my best puppy-dog eyes.”

He angled his head and fixed Blake with a wide-eyed, mournful stare. On an eight-year-old, it might’ve made hearts melt, but on Jaune’s teenage face, with wisps of facial hair on his chin, it looked absurd.

Blake grinned and swatted him with a napkin. “I’m not a dog person.” 

“No, you seem more like a cat person to me.”

Blake’s hand darted to Gambol Shroud, only to find the weapon missing, left with her Beacon uniform at school. Jaune stared amicably at Blake, not noticing the sudden tension in her shoulders.

“What makes you think that?” she asked stiffly.

“All the reading you do, how you never talk to anyone, you stretch a lot after laying out in the sun. Oh, and you like tuna a lot.”

“You’ve been keeping an eye on me?”

Jaune blushed and looked away. “Well, no, that was all Nora. She, uh, comes up with nicknames for everyone.” He lowered his gaze to the floor. “You’re the cat ninja.”

Blake nearly scowled at this, but she restrained herself and asked, “What about you?”

“The sponge knight. She says it’s because I can soak up a lot of damage, I’m soft and cuddly, and I’m – well, great in the shower, apparently.” In a low mutter, he said, “At least it’s better than vomit boy.”

She almost asked him about it, but she had a feeling that Cardin was to blame for that nickname. A glance at her scroll showed that nearly an hour had gone by. “I know our date was supposed to start now, but I’m feeling a bit tired.”

“No worries. I’ll pay the bill, and we can get going.”

Jaune fished his wallet out of his pocket. Pale shock froze his face as he stared into it.

“My card and money are gone,” he said weakly. He groaned and put his hands over his face. “I swear they were in there last night. I must’ve gotten robbed looking for the store.”

“A thief wouldn’t have put back the wallet,” Blake pointed out. “Sounds more like someone at Beacon took it.”

A flash of surprise was replaced by dull resignation. “I’m really sorry about this. As soon as I have some money, I’ll pay you back.”

Blake shrugged and set some lien on the table. “Don’t worry about it.”

The moment Jaune stood up, a cake sailed across the café and struck Jaune in the face. Chocolate frosting was smeared across his nose and cheek. Blake looked towards the door and caught sight of a Beacon uniform disappearing down the street.

“Augh, are you kidding me?” he asked. The cake slid down his face and landed on the floor. “Would you mind waiting a minute? I’ll wash up quick, and we can go back together.”

Blake was just about to get up and leave, but a pang of guilt kept her in her seat. “Sure thing. Did you see who threw it?”

“Nah.” He blushed and looked at her face. “I was, uh, too busy looking at you.”

Blake clenched her fists from the effort it took to not scowl at him. “You should get washed up.”

“Yeah, maybe I should.”

Jaune sprinted to the bathroom. Blake settled in her seat and looked out the nearest window, hoping to catch sight of the Beacon student. Instead, she saw a street lamp tip towards her. As she left a clone behind and tumbled backwards over the booth, the metal pole slammed through the window. Glass flew in a hundred shards, hitting the tiled floor with a cacophonous chorus of chinks. The pole crashed into the table, splitting it in two with a thunderous crack, and fell to the floor through the clone’s legs.

Jaune rushed out of the bathroom with wet chocolate smeared across his face and a paper towel in his hand. He dropped it as he rushed over to Blake. Glass crunched beneath his boots.

“Are you alright? What happened?”

Blake took Jaune’s hand as she climbed down from the booth. “I’m fine. A street lamp fell over.”

Jaune peered at the pole lodged in the café wall. “How did that happen?”

“I’m not sure. We should take a look.” The missing clothes, sabotaged scroll, stolen money, and thrown pastry had Cardin written all over it, but a lamp post through the window? It was too destructive and messy for his tastes.

The café manager ran towards them and profusely apologized for the accident, asking if they were alright and offering to call an ambulance. Blake brushed her off and went outside to inspect the street lamp. Onlookers had formed a ring around the fallen post, holding up scrolls and gossiping with each other. Blake wriggled her way to the front. A boulder the size of Jaune’s chest was wedged into the base of the post, just below where it had bent forward. 

“Did anyone see anything?” she asked the milling crowd around her. Several people shook their heads.

Jaune shoved his way up to her and gawked at the boulder. “Do you think someone did that?”

“I don’t think that rock fell from the sky, Jaune.”

“But, why would –”

Blake grabbed him by the arm. “We should head back. There’s nothing we can do here.”

“Don’t we need to be police witnesses?” Jaune asked as she dragged him through the crowd.

Blake gestured at the people around them. “They have plenty of witnesses.”

“I suppose you’re right. I should get some studying done anyways.”

Jaune offered a hand, but Blake didn’t take it. They walked side by side with an invisible wall between them.

“How’s your studying going?” Blake asked.

“Miserable. If it wasn’t for Ren, I’d be flunking all my classes. I’m so far behind it’s a wonder I haven’t gotten kicked out yet.” Jaune sighed. “He’s been busy helping Nora and Pyrrha with something for the past few days, so I’ve been on my own. He says it’s a girl problem and told me not to ask them about it, ever.”

“Ruby has the same problem,” Blake said. With a blush, she added, “The studying, I mean, not whatever Nora and Pyrrha are going through.” That brought all kinds of questions to mind, but she pushed them aside. “She’s two years behind on all the coursework, so Weiss dragged her to the library every night. Well, at least until the fights started. Maybe you should talk with Ruby and see if you can help each other study.”

Jaune chuckled. “The blind leading the blind? Shouldn’t I ask someone smart for help?”

“Well, you could try Weiss, Sky, or a professor.”

Jaune went pale as she listed his options. “What about you? I heard from Ruby you’re doing pretty well.”

Blake turned away from him. “I prefer to study alone.”

“Oh. I understand.” Jaune’s voice had a lonely, despondent air that twisted a dagger in Blake’s heart. She almost changed her mind, but the entrance to Beacon came up before them.

“Looks like we made it back without any more lamp posts falling on us,” Jaune said with a nervous chuckle. 

“No cakes flying out of nowhere either,” Blake added.

“Yeah, that too.” Jaune growled at himself and brought a hand over his face. “Look, I know today was a disaster, and I’m really sorry about it. If you’d rather not speak to me ever again, I would totally understand.”

“It’s not your fault,” Blake said. “It just happens, sometimes.”

“Well, if you’d be willing to give me another shot, at least we’d know it couldn’t possibly get any worse, right?”

Blake almost told him no outright, but a quick glance at Jaune showed her a painful expression of hope and anxiety that twisted the words on her tongue. “I’ll think about it.”

Jaune’s shoulders drooped, and his hair drifted over his eyes. “I understand. Have a good night Blake.”

“You too Jaune. Good luck studying.”

Jaune went straight for the dorms while Blake took a turn towards the library. She had debated going straight to her room to change out of the clothes, but odds were good that Yang and Weiss were still arguing. 

In one of the hallways, a cheerful voice called out to her. “Hello Blake!”

She turned and found Nora standing behind her, twirling Magnhild in her right hand like a baton. Her hair was in ruffled tangles, and there were dark bags under her eyes.

“Nora. How are you doing?”

“Splendid! Thank you so much for asking. How was your date with Jaune?”

The question took her aback, and at first, she didn’t know how to answer. Her gut reaction was to say it was not that great or explain it hadn’t been Jaune’s fault she didn’t enjoy herself, but after reflecting on their time in the café and the conversation they had, she found herself with a different opinion.

“It was fun,” Blake said. “It didn’t go very well, sure, but it was nice talking with him.”

Nora’s smile, which had seemed as bright and ever-present as the sun, vanished in an instant. More like a flash of lightning, all that remained in the wake of her smile were stormy clouds and turbulent winds.

Nora’s voice was the soft rumble of distant thunder. “He shows up in his worst clothes, didn’t have his scroll charged, and made you pay for everything, and you still think that was fun?”

Blake took a step back. Her hands were halfway to her back before she remembered Gambol Shroud was gone. “Nora? What’s going on?”

“Why are you dating him?”

“You’re not jealous, are you?”

Nora smiled, but it had none of its earlier warmth. “No, he’s nice and all, but it would never work out. Sponges and lightning don’t mix. But cats and sponges? I mean, come on, cats hate baths and the cat hair would get inside the sponge and make it all nasty.”

“What do you mean? You’re not making any sense!”

Magnhild’s haft hit the floor. Tile broke with the sharp crack of a thunderstrike. “Renny says I have a bad habit of saying all kinds of crazy things and making people confused, so I’ll make this simple. Jaune. Is. Off. Limits. There, did you understand that?”

Blake swallowed and drew the leather jacket tighter around herself. “Why are you trying to control him?”

“Why do you care?” Nora asked back. “You didn’t even want to go on that date!”

Blake’s breath caught in her throat as she wondered how much Nora knew. Though her mouth was numb, she managed to say, “I wasn’t planning on going out with him again. It was fun, but I agree, I don’t think we would work out.”

In a flash, Nora’s smile was back with its usual radiance. “Good. I’m glad we were able to talk this out like friends.”

As Nora walked past her, Magnhild’s head grazed Blake’s thigh, where the jeans were torn. The metal felt ice-cold on her skin. “Just remember, Blakey,” Nora said in a tired voice, “If you make another move on Jaune, I won’t miss next time.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Changelog: 3/26/2019 - changed the interaction with Nora a bit.


	9. Home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First off, I tweaked a few things in the last chapter. If you’re interested, there’s notes about it on the previous chapter, but I only added a few extra details into the interaction with Nora. Nothing of real significance has been changed. I also intend to change a few conversations with Yang, but that’s for a later day. I’m trying not to go too crazy with it – the last story I wrote, I ended up rewriting nearly the entire thing to add in a new plot element, and I’m hoping to avoid that mess this time.
> 
> I’m also debating starting another fic to run concurrently with this one, but that all depends on how the next few weeks pan out. If I can keep up my current writing pace of getting each of these chapters done in three days, I’ll start another one.
> 
> So… yandere Nora. Yes? No? I see people not knowing what the heck to think about it, but no definitive voice on whether or not it works. Needless to say, that’ll be explored more in the future, but I have no wish to spoil where I go with that.

**\----------**

Cardin hated the visitor’s chair in his father’s study. He couldn’t decide if it was supposed to lull him into a relaxed pose or give him the impression that he would drown in its lush folds at any moment. Either way the downy cushions of the red velvet seat felt claustrophobic as a jail cell.

The study was a spacious, well-lit room with no windows and thick walls. A massive oak desk stamped with the Winchester family crest sat in the middle of the room, with row after row of bookshelves, each packed with ledgers, bundles of letters, Council records, and legal documents, standing behind it like sentinels. Rich black carpet covered the floors, and the walls were painted a deep red that glowed in the Dust-light.

Vermillion Winchester sat on the other side of the desk. He wore reading glasses with gold frames that disappeared into his short-cropped blonde hair. In front of him was a stack of papers, which he sifted through and marked up with a fountain pen. He had on a bathrobe colored Winchester red and black. Cardin could see a knife sticking out of one of its sleeves, a hidden blade he was meant to see.

“I hear your grades are improving.”

“Yes father. It has taken some time, but I’ve adjusted to all the reading required.”

“Then tell me, what do you think of this letter?”

He slid a paper across the table. Cardin picked it up with numb fingers. He skimmed the middle of the document and found what had captured his father’s attention.

“Lord Orgen wishes to add a Mistralian Huntress to the guest list for tomorrow’s party?”

“Huntress in training,” his father corrected. “This letter arrived two hours after it was made known that you would be in attendance.”

Cardin toiled through a few more lines under the pretext of thinking over the situation. “Has she been in contact with my cousin?”

“Unlikely,” Vermillion said, “But not impossible.”

“It’s bait. They want to see how interested we are in this new arrival.”

Vermillion smiled and took off his reading glasses. “Which is why you are going to take every opportunity to get close to this woman.”

“That will seem heavy-handed given we’re avoiding the implication that Weiss and I may become romantically involved.”

With a snort, Vermillion said, “Anyone with half a brain knows that would never happen. It wouldn’t even serve as a pretext.” He brushed his trimmed mustache with a finger and hummed tunelessly to himself. “Perhaps it would be wiser to first see what move they make. If they don’t introduce you before dinner, I will have you offer the first course to Lord Orgen, where you may present yourself to this guest of his.”

His father held out a hand, and Cardin gave him the letter. He folded it in thirds, stood up from his chair, which had more firm cushions, and went to one of the bookshelves. Without untying the twine that held a stack of letters, he slipped the latest letter in with the others.

“How about your combat practice?” Vermillion asked. “What do you think so far of your odds of winning the Vytal Festival?”

“I don’t think Pyrrha will prove as invincible as the tournament experts believe her to be. She seems to think herself so far ahead of the class that she didn’t even bother to show up for lessons today.”

“Arrogance has often been the demise of the powerful. What of your own training?”

“I was hoping to take advantage of the trip home to do some Dust training without anyone watching. Is Gideon available?”

“He is preparing the training room. You have one hour, then I expect you in your study. I would like you to balance the books on this month’s logging operations. Also, try not to use too much, Gravity Dust is getting scarce.”

Cardin rose from the seat, bowed, and left the room. The moment the door closed, he sprinted through the mansion, nearly knocked over a maid dusting a chandelier, and slid down the railing to the lower floor. The fake wall at the bottom was slid aside, revealing the cellars and servants’ quarters. Porter after porter hauled smoked meats and casks of wine through a hidden passage in the walls of the dining hall to the kitchens off to Cardin’s left. Cardin went right, passing the ballroom, and entered the armory.

The first room held racks of weapons and armor, featuring a wide selection of firearms, melee weapons, and the occasional oddity, such as a set of barbed grappling hooks, a set of bird-shaped throwing knives, and a three-barreled pistol. The decorative pieces were arranged at the front, gilt and studded with gems until their luster stung more than their blades. Behind them were the real arms, stoutly built of steel and well-worn by countless hands.

Cardin had left his mace at Beacon, but an identical model waited for him on the changing bench, next to a set of plate armor, leather boots, and a canister of Gravity Dust. When he lifted the canister, it had a strange heft in his hands, rising easily and resisting when he made it stop at eye level. He flicked the Dust hatch on his mace open and attached the canister. Dust rushed into the weapon, and all light left the canister. The mace felt no different in his hands, a sign the weapon’s Dust vial wasn’t leaking.

Through a stout set of wooden doors, Cardin entered into the Winchester family’s combat arena. It was a large, domed room whose every surface was sleek, polished oak. Patches of brighter wood showed where pieces had been replaced. Nicks and holes riddled the walls, but the floor was smooth enough to slide across on his belly.

Gideon was at the other end of the room. A gray, padded vest covered his chest and left his arms bare. Black shorts clung tight to his thighs. Gideon held an axe in each hand, ducked and darted around invisible foes, and wove the axes in intricate patterns, hooking aside an unseen sword, lopping at an imagined spear haft, hacking heads off countless phantom foes.

The door slammed shut behind him. Without breaking his momentum, Gideon spun towards Cardin and bowed setting the axes to the floor.

“You appear well, master Cardin. Would you care to practice against the spear and shield again?”

“I think I have practiced enough against that foe. Don the gauntlets.”

“As you command.”

Even with his nose as damaged as it was, Cardin could smell the sweat dripping off Gideon’s arms, yet he could hardly hear the man breathe. Within moments, he was back in the arena, sporting black and yellow knuckledusters on each hand. Gideon cocked them back, and shotgun rounds whirred in the chambers surrounding them.

Without a signal or word of warning, Gideon barreled forward, propelling himself with shotgun bursts from the gauntlets. Cardin drew back and raised his mace to block a right cross, pivoted, and kicked at Gideon’s chest. The servant grabbed him by the ankle, whirled, and threw him across the room. Cardin rolled up, mace ready to block, but Gideon kept his distance.

Inching forward and watching every twitch of his opponent’s body, Cardin prepared his assault. His finger hovered over the trigger that would activate the Dust stored in the vial. He feinted forward, faked an over-extension of his left leg, and taunted, but Gideon remained immobile as a statue.

Cardin crossed an invisible line, at the point where a single step would put Gideon within the optimal range for an uppercut. Gideon raced forward, right fist cocked back for a blow to the gut. Cardin took a step back. Gideon switched fists, coming in hard with a left hook to the face. The punch was deliberately aimed at his cheek, rolling past his fake, unprotected nose. Twirling with the force of the blow, Cardin brought the mace around and struck Gideon in the shoulder. The servant backed away and rubbed at the struck area, but Cardin knew better than to believe the blow had hurt him.

“Your reflexes are improving,” Gideon said.

“I’ve been practicing,” Cardin grunted back. Step by step, he went in a circle around Gideon. The servant shifted to keep Cardin in front. He tried feinting right and darting left, but Gideon met his overhead strike with one gauntlet and planted the other in Cardin’s ribcage. Wheezing and reeling from the blow, Cardin accidentally pressed the button. His weapon shone with purple light, and it nearly flew out of his hands.

Not one to waste Dust, Cardin extended the chain. It uncoiled like a snake, hovering at a uniform height above the ground, just below his shoulder. With a flick, Cardin sent the ball barreling towards Gideon. He sidestepped, and the ball hit the back wall with a deafening crunch of wood. A panel slipped out, revealing the sturdy stonework behind it.

Gideon ran towards him, but Cardin retracted the chain and wove it around himself. As Gideon approached, Cardin whipped his hand sideways, and the chain looped around him. Gideon ducked, rolled, and came up a few feet behind Cardin.

With his left hand, he pulled on the chain with all his might. His right whirled back and swung the butt of his mace haft at Gideon’s neck. The left gauntlet blocked the blow, and the right looped itself around the chain, cutting Cardin off from the blunt end.

Cardin dropped the haft and lunged for a chain nearer the end. With a yank, the ball was back in his hand, along with twenty feet of chain. A wild idea formed itself in his mind, and before he could think it through, he hurled the ball in an arc behind Gideon. The ball looped around one chain suspended in midair, swung back behind Gideon’s legs, and landed in Cardin’s other hand.

A tug at both ends brought the whole chain back behind Gideon’s knees, sweeping the fighter off his feet. Cardin rushed forward and struck with the ball of the mace, once, twice, three times. Gideon caught the attacks on his gauntlets, and one of them cracked, spilling shotgun shells on the floor.

“Good!” Gideon said as he struggled in the chain. “But tangling your weapon like that is risky. What are you going to do when I get out?”

The chains fell away as he sprang to his feet. Cardin recovered the haft and tugged on it, but the chain tightened into a knotted ball, leaving him with a scant ten feet to work with. An experimental whip felt clumsy and uncoordinated, and the ball flailed uselessly.

Using his Semblance, he pushed directly into the chain. The force of the shove made the knot balloon outward, and with some deft movements of his hands, the ball untangled his chain. Through this, Gideon attempted to fire shots at the ball and at Cardin, but he let his Aura take the punishment.

Cardin used the remaining minute’s worth of dust to keep Gideon at a distance, forcing him to spend his remaining shotgun shells. The purple light enveloping the ball and chain flickered. The weapon’s dead weight hit the ground with a rattling clang. Not wasting a second, Gideon bounded over the inert chains. Cardin whipped the chain side to side as he drew it back towards him, trying to catch Gideon’s ankles, but the nimble fighter was on Cardin before his chain had fully retracted. Cardin yanked, and the ball flew into Gideon’s back. As the servant stumbled, Cardin brought up a knee and caught him in the gut.

Gideon looped one arm under Cardin’s leg, leaned back, and lifted Cardin’s leg high in the air. Grunting from the pain, Cardin stood on his tiptoes with the other leg, fully retracted the chain, and swung his mace at Gideon’s thigh. The blow was weak, but it shifted him just enough for Cardin to roll out of his grip.

From there, the fight transitioned into a slow, methodical exchange of blows, with minutes of foot shifting and positioning as they fought a silent war for superior spacing, Gideon creeping past Cardin’s reach and Cardin backing away to stay out of range of the empty gauntlets. The moment one found an advantage, whether it was a stumble over a shotgun shell or a poor reaction to a feint, one of them would strike a blow, the other would counter or back away, and the cycle would continue.

As the hour approached, Gideon changed tactics. Gone was the neat, tidy footwork as he hurtled towards Cardin. Blow after blow rained on his head, stomach, and thighs as Cardin backpedaled and kept his mace in front of him. Gideon grabbed the mace by its haft, pivoted, and yanked the weapon from Cardin’s grip. Cardin let the weapon leave his hands and followed up with a jab to Gideon’s jaw. The older man took the blow and returned it with interest in the form of an uppercut that drove the wind from Cardin’s lungs.

“That’s time,” Gideon said, rubbing his jaw. “Nice follow-up on that disarm.”

Cardin checked his scroll. He had the tiniest sliver of Aura remaining, while Gideon, though forming a puddle on the floor, seemed no more exhausted than when the battle had started.

“Yang doesn’t fight like that,” Cardin said. “She always goes for the face if she’s mad and aims for the chest if she isn’t.”

“Use that, but be ready for anything. Shall I help you get cleaned up?”

With Gideon’s assistance, Cardin stripped out of his armor, hopped in the shower, and found a lush bathrobe waiting for him. Wrapping himself in the family colors, Cardin made his way to his own study. It was a miniature copy of his father’s, complete with its own suffocating chair for visitors, and a separate one reserved for his father and other distinguished guests.

A servant had just set down a tray of fruit and a pitcher of water for him when Cardin entered the room. With a bow, the woman left, closing the door behind her. Cardin inspected each item on the plate and poured some of the water into his palm. Nothing had been touched. Only then did Cardin tuck into the food, cramming whole bites of fresh melon and strawberry without tasting them. He drained half the pitcher, belched, and settled into his chair, this one with a firmness to his liking, but a touch small around his shoulders.

The logging reports were neatly bundled in a folder on his desk, and a set of fountain pens were arranged in a metal stand next to his writing hand. His reading difficulties translated to the realm of numbers, but under the guise of checking his calculations, he had a ready excuse for taking longer to process the paperwork. That meant his work had to be perfect, but such was always the case.

He sorted through employee wages and benefits packages, capital equipment expenses, part replacements, and replanting. Extra attention went to making sure that two trees went up for every one chopped down and found that another three-hundred were planted in surplus.

The next day dawned cold and bleak. Cardin groaned as he rolled out of bed and stretched the aches out of his muscles. Old, yellow bruises dotted his chest, but his Aura had taken care of the bumps on his face and arms. For good measure, a servant came in, checked him over before he put his clothes on, and dabbed concealer on each of the bruises on his chest.

He spent the morning and early afternoon assisting his father and various chaplains with preparations for the evening party. Every portion of meat and alcohol that left the cellars was accounted for, and the seats were tallied up twice.

When two o clock tolled, his thoughts flitted to Blake and her impending date with Jaune. He chuckled wryly, thinking he’d trade places with her in a heartbeat, and went back to watching the chefs.

The first guests, the less important ones arrived shortly before four, unseated, minor dukes and more influential persons of interest within the cogs of gubernatorial machinery, chiefs of police, news network managers, corporate executives and the like. These crowded the parlor just off the mansion’s entry hall. Servants with hor d'oeuvres and small glasses of wine circled around as these persons of interest discussed current affairs and the latest scandals, handling words like rapiers as they feinted and parried, each person feeling out the others around them, attempting to ferret out secrets and alliances. Cardin walked among them as though snipers were lurking beyond the windows, analyzing every word that passed his ears and offering as little conversation as he could politely manage.

The chief of police from Vale’s southern district commented on the champagne sent to him, which Cardin saw was noted by other officials in the vicinity. He was too good a man to waste, so instead of heaping praise on him, Cardin preserved his position and his neck by admonishing him for letting those Faunus loose. The chief was smart enough to bow his head and apologize for misinterpreting his orders.

The more important guests came just after five. Each person of note was announced to the sudden hush of dozens of expectant guests, and a flurry of whispers rippled in their wake. They would linger among the lesser guests for a moment, whispering in the ear of one man or having a loud conversation with such and such person, adding yet another thread to the tapestry of Vale’s political intrigue, before retiring to a private salon with Duke Winchester.

The arrival of Duke Orgen brought complete silence to the guests. Cardin waited a respectable distance away, well within distance of the Duke and his entourage, his two eldest sons, his wife, and a few political hangers-on.

His Huntress guest stood out like a blazing sun blotting out lesser stars. Her luscious black hair sparkled like obsidian, and her eyes glowed with fire. The black dress she wore accentuated every curve and offered a view of ample cleavage without drawing attention to it. Her heels clicked on the oaken floor as she strode forward, taking in the crowd with a disinterested, flat stare. When her eyes flitted over Cardin, they darted back, and a slight smile curled her thin, lush lips.

His father and Duke Orgen exchanged greetings, but Cardin was not called for. More guests arrived, the Montblancs, which Cardin was obliged to speak with at length, the Cirilians, which prompted him to melt into the crowd, and many others that merited some form of greeting or polite, brief conversations like the tips of rapiers brushing each other.

At six, the guests were ushered into the dining hall, starting with the most distinguished Dukes at the head table, followed by lesser dignitaries further from the kitchens. The appetizers had already been laid out, and servants waited off to the side with the first course held in silver platters. With a wave of Duke Vermillion’s hand, Cardin took a tray from one of the servants and brought it to Duke Orgen. As he carved the Wellington to Orgen’s desired thickness, he kept an eye on Duke Montblanc, who appeared vexed, but not surprised, by Cardin’s attention to this Duke.

His other eye remained on the Huntress. She studied him intently while appearing to study the wine in her glass, being just obvious enough about it to make obvious the fact that she was being discreet in studying him. Curious about this display of political prowess, Cardin shuffled the carving order and served her second. The sons of Orgen frowned at him, but a grin lit up the Duke’s face.

The guest examined the pastry-wrapped beef on her plate with a raised eyebrow. “A bold move. Do you think I’m important enough to serve before a Duke’s eldest son?”

“It would be impolite of him to keep a beautiful woman waiting. I hope that he feels gratitude that I have extended you this courtesy on his behalf.”

“My, quite the gentleman,” she said without the faintest hint of blush on her pale cheeks. “I will take a second. I have quite the appetite tonight.”

As he served another portion, he turned to the Duke and asked to be introduced.

“I shall introduce myself,” she cut in, holding out her left hand. “I am Cinder Fall.”

Cardin studied the offered hand for a moment. For all that it had a stunning combination of tenderness and muscle, and for all her fingernails looked like pearls, it was the fact that she had proffered this hand that troubled him. Custom dictated that even left-handed individuals offer the right hand, as the left hand denotes sinister motive and treachery. Yet, it seemed a genuinely honest gesture in this company, an acknowledgement that they will invariably attempt to deceive and sabotage each other.

He took her left hand with his own. “Cardin Winchester. It is a pleasure to meet you.”

Her skin felt ablaze with inner fire, suffusing his own hand with tingling warmth.

“The pleasure is all mine. I look forward to speaking further with you at Beacon.”

Before he could process that nugget of information, the elder son demanded his portion, and Cardin was called away to serve the rest of Duke Orgen’s guests.

His father was disappointed by the lack of concrete information, but he had plenty of other opportunities to ferret out plots and divine hidden intentions as he made rounds with other tables. Many Dukes, in particular Montblanc and others with marriage prospects, discreetly questioned him on his relationship with Weiss, to which he always mentioned that pursuing a proposal with a foreign family of little political influence, let alone a marriage, would be folly, and they had no reason to fear any competition from the Schnees for his hand.

By the manner in which they asked, Cardin could tell which had received their information directly from the Cirilians, and from that detail, he was able to ask more direct questions to pin down how exactly they were connected with the rival family. Many were obvious, either through family ties or business arrangements, but a few had strings leading to upcoming Council votes that could swing important bills. He made careful note of each and whispered them to his father over untasted bites of food.

It was nearly ten in the evening by the time dessert had been served. Cardin felt as though he had ran ten miles and read a week’s worth of Oobleck’s assignments. A dull throb settled in his head, which the wine only made worse. Conversations blurred into one another, but by this point in the night, all the talk had devolved into current events and trifles. Torchwick’s latest string of dust robberies was on every pair of lips, with many muttering how he should know better than to stir up trouble. Others discussed the upsurge in White Fang activity and how it would further escalate Dust prices.

The guests started leaving at half past ten, the lower seats first, until seven Dukes remained at the main table, each nursing glasses of wine. Their minor retainers left with the crowd, but sons and the occasional distinguished guest remained with them. Cinder was among their number, appearing sober and collected despite the empty glass of wine in front of her.

Under other circumstances, this collection of Dukes – Winchester, Montblanc, Cirilian, Orgen, Virdt, Morado, and Aurem – would be enough to start a civil war. This collection held nearly a quarter of the votes through their titles and had strings on the rest. Instead, thanks to the inebriation of the guests, the conversation turned to the Vytal festival, and the news of Pyrrha’s struggles in school circulated the table with chuckles into wine glasses.

Only one did not laugh. Through the haze of alcohol, Cardin noticed that Cinder studied every word said by the seven Dukes. Her eyes darted like falcons from one man to the next as they laid out plans for the festival and their bets on who would take it. Yang was well-favored among them, but a few raised their glasses and made polite assertations that he would do his family proud.

Just past midnight, the Dukes departed together, each escorted out by weary servants propping them up with a shoulder and a pair of guards with hands on weapons, watching every shadow and turning towards the barest whisper of feet on stone.

To Cardin’s tired surprise, Orgen had no guards, but Cinder radiated enough lethal intent to make his fingers itch for his mace. He doubted that a hidden blade would fit in her dress, but he’d seen fingernails sharp enough to cut through stone, and hers, for all their beauty, looked no less formidable.

As the servants cleared the tables, one took Cardin’s arm and guided him to his bedroom. He stripped Cardin out of his suit, tucked him into bed, and left Cardin to his dreamless sleep.


	10. Forever Fall

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! First off, I finally have a beta-reader. HybridAlabaster offered to help out by reading the rough drafts of my chapters and giving their input on them. Considering that I’m about to get into a fairly important character arc, the timing couldn’t be better. They’ll be credited on the chapters they help me with.
> 
> In other news, I’m planning to start another fanfic concurrently with this once, since my writing pace allows for it. More info on that once I have that started. I’m thinking that I’ll release that story on April 14th, once I have an outline written up and the first chapter written. This will continue to be updated on Fridays, and the new work will get a chapter every Sunday. 
> 
> With that out of the way, I really hope you enjoy this chapter.

**\----------**

**Beta: HybridAlabaster**

Cardin knew that Blake was somewhere in the empty classroom, but he couldn't see her until she stepped out of the corner.

"Do you have the rapier wasps?" Cardin asked.

Blake held up a buzzing cardboard box. "You're planning to do something horrible with them, aren't you?"

"No, I was planning on giving them a tea party and putting dresses on them." He rolled his eyes. "Do you even have to ask?"

"I should throw this box off a cliff." She thought for a moment and corrected herself. “I should throw you off a cliff.”

"Then I should give the Headmaster a call. I wouldn't want him to lose his position over hiding a wanted terrorist."

Blake's hidden ears drooped, and she gritted her teeth. "Why involve me in this? Why can't you do this yourself?"

"Liability reasons. If someone thought to check who went to get those wasps, you'd be the prime suspect. Now, are you going to hand me the box?"

Blake looked at the box. Her hands shook as she took two steps forward, closing the distance between them. She looked away and held it up. Cardin ran a finger along the underside, making sure it had been taped shut, before he took it from her. He gave it a shake and listened to the buzzing inside.

"Those suckers sound mad," he said. "Perfect."

"Can I go now? I have homework to do."

"First tell me when your next date is."

Her eyes widened. "The next date?"

"Yes, the next one." He glared at her. "Don't tell me you already broke up with him."

"I – I didn't, not really." Blake went pale, and one hand went down to stroke her thigh. "I thought it was only the one date. Jaune asked if I wanted to do another, and I said I'd think about it."

"Well, you thought about it, and you'd like to give it another try."

"Seriously? How many times are you going to make me do this?"

"Until I say so."

"That's ridiculous! You're going to make me string him along? What kind of sick, twisted game are you playing with him?"

Anger boiled up in his chest, but he gave her a lackadaisical shrug and his cheekiest shit-eating grin. "Does it really matter? You're going to do what I say, or you'll do what I say from a jail cell. Your choice."

A growl rumbled at the back of Blake's throat, like a panther poised to strike. Tears rolled down her cheeks, and her arms dropped to her sides.

"Fine. I'll play your stupid game."

"Glad to hear it."

She wiped away the tears with the back of her hand. "Could I ask you not to sabotage the next date?" She furrowed her brows for a moment. "It would be really awkward trying to explain why I keep giving him second chances if he keeps screwing it up."

"What do you mean?" Cardin asked. "I didn't do anything."

"It wasn't you?"

A sinking feeling, like a lead weight, hit Cardin's stomach. "What happened?"

Blake recounted the events of the date – Jaune's missing clothes, the battery taken from his scroll, and the stolen money. She swallowed as she told him about the fallen lamppost and Nora's threat.

"Nora would have easy access to his clothes and wallet," Cardin pointed out. "It was probably her."

"But why?" Blake asked. "She said she wasn't interested in him, but what if she is?"

Cardin wondered about it for a moment. It didn't make any sense for Nora to have any interest in Jaune, not when she was practically married to Ren. Then it hit him.

"She was probably lying," he said with a regretful shake of his head. Laughter threatened to bubble out of his chest, but he smothered it with an effort. "I wouldn't think it either, but there's no telling what that girl's thinking right?" Cardin snorted. "I heard she tried to bake a pancake inside of a pancake so she could eat more pancakes at the same time."

"I suppose you're right. Then, what are we going to do about her?"

"I'll deal with her. You will arrange another date with Jaune after I give you the go-ahead. I'll text something about a new shirt. That's your cue."

Blake sighed and leaned back on one of the desks. "I understand. Is there anything else you want?"

"Well, yes actually. There's the field trip coming up this Friday. I want you to be my lookout while I get some business done."

“What kind of business?”

“That’s none of your business, is it? Just tell your team you’ll take lookout duty and come find me. Stay out of sight in one of the trees, whistle like a bird to let me know you’re there, and two whistles for trouble. Think you can do that?” Cardin put a hand on her shoulder and loomed over her. His skin crawled from touching a Faunus, but he kept a smile on his face. “I know you’re a cat, but you can do birdie noises, right?”

She glowered at him and nodded.

When he made it back to his room, Russell and Dove were gone, but Sky was in bed, watching his Scroll. He glanced up when Cardin walked in.

"How was your run?"

"I got the exercise I wanted," he said, hefting the box of rapier wasps in one hand. He sat next to Sky and slipped the box under the bed. "I need you to focus on Nora. Find whatever dirt on her you can."

Sky shook his head. "Easier said than done. I don't have access to their records at Mistral."

"Entrance records?"

"They went to a Mistraltan prep school. All that's in there is a certification exam."

Cardin leaned forward. "What about their student stipend? Are they doing anything with it?"

"Their credit history's just food and grenades."

"They're buying food?"

"Yeah, and quite a lot of it." He opened up a folder and typed in a password. After some sifting, he held up Ren's credit history. "He does all the buying. Makes the pancakes from scratch, by the looks of it, and uses maple syrup too."

Cardin pored over the list. "It's tapered off lately."

"They're near the end of their budget. He's even bought a few boxes of cheap mix recently and switched to corn syrup." Sky took the Scroll back and went to the bottom. "They also just bought a few dozen jars. Empty jars, cheapest available."

With a grin, Cardin asked, "That syrup at Forever Fall's supposed to be pretty sweet, isn't it?"

"Disgustingly so, according to the lectures." Sky frowned at the Scroll. "Do you really think they're planning to put it on pancakes?"

"Knowing Nora, she'll probably think it's the best thing ever. Why don't we invest in a few jars of our own?"

Sky looked up at him, and as realization hit him, a twinkle lit up his eyes. "You're a genius."

"I'll do one better." He took out his own scroll and called home. A butler picked up the phone. Cardin put in a request to have the jars, some maple syrup, and pancake ingredients delivered to Beacon, with it made obvious what the man was carrying. They arrived an hour before curfew, and the two butlers handed him three bundles of clear plastic bags.

Within five minutes, Nora Valkyrie knocked on his door.

"Hello Sky!" she called when he opened the door. "There was a man walking around with baby pancakes. Did you happen to see him?" Her eyes fell on the plastic bags sitting on Cardin's desk, and she rushed inside. Cardin stopped her with an outstretched arm.

"Are those yours?" he asked.

Her face fell, and she gave him a childish pout. "You big meanie. You got those pancakes to make fun of me, didn't you?"

"Actually, they just arrived by mistake. I tried telling the delivery man that I didn't order them, but he insisted that he had the right address."

Nora scratched her hair. "He was dressed awfully fancy for a delivery boy."

"It was a very fancy company." He sighed and turned towards the ingredients. Beads of moisture glistened on the quart of buttermilk. "I was planning to call them up and have this stuff taken back, but I'm afraid the buttermilk will spoil by the time they collect them."

"So you're going to eat them yourself?"

Cardin shook his head. "I don't know how to cook. I'd just burn them, or something."

Nora wore an expression of horror, as though the mere idea of burned pancakes were a war crime. "Then what are you going to do?"

"Well, since you seem to want them so much, you can have them."

"Really?" Her eyes narrowed and she stood up on her tiptoes to stare down at him. "What's the catch?"

"What catch? You would be doing me a favor."

She backed away from him. "Nope. It's a trap. You're planning something sneaky, aren't you?"

Cardin affected a disappointed sigh. "That's a shame. I was hoping that maybe, just maybe, this would encourage you to not break my legs."

"Nope! You're mean. Ren told me not to take things from mean people, especially not food. He said I'd wake up in an alley with a kidney missing and my virginity taken."

Before Cardin could begin to process what she had just said, Nora gave the ingredients one last plaintive glance and ran out of the room.

Sky looked shell-shocked. He stared down the hall at Nora's retreating figure and said, "I thought you had her."

Cardin took a deep breath. "Give it time. We made the first crack, and more will come with time." He grinned. "After all, they're still running out of money."

A knock came at the door. Cardin cursed himself and looked up to find Ren in the doorway.

"May I come in?" he asked.

Cardin gestured towards Russell's bed. Ren walked in and sat close to the door.

"You appear aware of our situation," he said calmly.

Cardin thought about laying on some charm, but he decided that bluntness would work best. "Nora eats a lot, doesn't she?"

"Yep." He looked at the bags of ingredients. "You didn't do anything with those, did you?"

"If you don't believe me, I'll eat the first pancake."

Ren sighed and folded his hands in his lap. "Very well. What do you want for them?"

Cardin considered it for a moment. While he could ask him to keep Nora from interfering with Jaune's dates, it would be better that no one realize what he was doing. Instead, he said, "I want information on Pyrrha."

Cardin expected him to tense up or scowl at him, but Ren showed no signs of emotion. "What kind?"

"Her Semblance if you know it, and anything else that might influence how well she does in the Vytal Festival."

Ren shook his head. "She hasn't told us what her Semblance is. To be fair, we haven't said ours either." He shrugged. "It never came up. As for the tournament..." He glanced out the door, where Nora had just left. With a sigh, he said, "Pyrrha's been taking Jaune's relationship with Blake very hard."

Cardin gave Sky a significant look and gestured towards the door. Without a word, Sky rose from his bed, stood outside the room, and closed the door behind him.

"How hard?"

Ren related how Pyrrha had cried all night and refused to leave the bathroom the following morning. She was still in there when they went back to bed, and Nora had spent the night with her. After hearing from Nora that the date went poorly, Pyrrha's mood improved, but she still refused to speak with Jaune.

Cardin held up the plastic bags. "All yours Ren. A pleasure doing business."

"I wish I could say the same, Cardin." He looked inside the bag. "If I were to tell you Pyrrha's Semblance, what would you give me?"

"All the pancakes Nora can eat."

Ren nodded. "I'll ask her."

He dug inside one of the bags and took out a jar of maple syrup, twisted the top open, and dipped his finger inside. Turning away from Cardin, he slid the sticky finger into his mouth.

"Good stuff. Nora's done nothing but complain since I switched to corn syrup."

From underneath Sky's bed came a soft buzzing noise. A chill clutched Cardin's chest.

"What is that?" Ren asked.

"I think Sky left his scroll under his bed," Cardin said. He swallowed nervously and kept his eyes on Ren. "Could you let him back in? I think you'd want to get the milk into the fridge before it gets cold."

Ren opened the door and stepped past Sky. Sky's eyes followed the bags in Ren's hands.

"Looks like we have a winner."

Cardin let out the breath he had been holding and collapsed on the bed. "That was too damn close."

"What was?" Sky listened and heard the wasps. "Oh. Should I follow him?"

"No, don't. I doubt he knows, and even if he does, he'll stay quiet."

Sky lifted the covers and looked at the box. "I'm sleeping over all those wasps tonight, aren't I?"

The wasps had stayed quiet through the night, but a rough shake of the box the next morning revealed that the wasps were alive, well, and very pissed off. A stinger had worked its way through the tape at the top of the box, and the wasp underneath flailed, buzzing louder than the rest as it struggled to free itself. Russell decided to name that wasp Jaune.

Their entire class boarded a small fleet of Bullheads, which were usually reserved for the older students' away missions. Once they arrived at the scarlet forest, Professor Goodwitch had them practice emergency landings from the Bullhead. He hadn't accounted for a harsh landing when packing their extra jars, but by rolling to his side when he hit the ground, he managed to keep his half a dozen jars intact. The others met him behind a dense shrub.

"Mine broke," Dove said as he hefted his backpack. Shards of glass clattered around. "Sorry about that."

"It's fine. Sky, are the wasps fine?"

Sky’s fingers shook as he opened up his backpack, but he heaved a relieved sigh and pulled out the intact box.

"Get to the spot. I'll get Jaune."

Back at the Bullheads, Goodwitch was giving wooden crates, full of jars and tapping supplies to each team. When Cardin received his, he had Jaune carry them and followed him to the clearing he had picked out. Nora looked as though she was going to follow after, but Ren caught her by a shoulder and pulled her away. Pyrrha gave Jaune a mournful, puffy-eyed glance before running after her other teammates.

While Cardin watched Jaune collect six jars of sap, Sky, Dove, and Russell snuck off to a different copse to fill the extra jars. About twenty minutes into the tapping process, a shrill whistle sounded overhead.

"What was that?" Jaune asked.

"Just some bird. Now, keep filling those jars. You wouldn't want us to be late to the Bullheads, do you?"

Jaune sniffed and rubbed at his swollen face. With a groan, he staggered to his feet and held six jars cradled in his arms. "Ugh, I think I'm allergic to this stuff."

Russell and the others had just gotten back with packs full of sap. They gave him a nod and closed around Jaune.

"Great. So, Jaune, I bet you're wondering why your buddy Cardin had you collect six jars of tree sap when there are only five of us."

"That is one of the many questions I have asked myself today, yes."

"Well, come with me and you'll find out."

They crept downhill, towards the clamor of the other groups. At the edge of a clearing, Pyrrha and Ren gathered sap. When Ren set aside a full jar, Nora swiped it and downed the whole thing like lemonade. Cardin tried a tentative lick of sap around the lid of a jar and cringed at the sugar burning his tongue.

"Cardin, what's going on?"

"Payback." He had prepared this answer last night. It seemed like a flimsy excuse, but Pyrrha had been stuck-up towards him.

"Pyrrha? Why-"

"That's her, know it all, think she's so smart. We'll see how smart she is covered with sap. I'm thinking it's time we teach her a thing or two, and you're going to do it."

"Do what?"

With a gesture from Cardin, his teammates crowded behind Jaune. Russell forcefully mussed Jaune's hair, nearly pushing him to his knees.

Cardin held out the sixth jar. "Hit her with the sap." He leaned in closer. Jaune's breath rasped with panic, and his blue eyes dilated wildly. "Either that, or I'll have a chat with Goodwitch and you'll be on the first airship out of Beacon."

He shoved the jar into Jaune's hands, and out of instinct, he grabbed it. Jaune looked down at the jar. "You want me to dump it on her? She'd know it was me!"

"Throw the jar you idiot, then run away before someone finds us."

"But wouldn't the glass hurt her?"

Sky and Russell chuckled. Cardin feigned an exasperated sigh and said, "Her Aura would block that."

"But not the sap."

"Very good Jauney boy!" Cardin clapped him on the shoulder. "See, I told you guys he could learn. Now, are you going to do it or not?"

Jaune swallowed and looked at his teammates. "I – I shouldn't."

"Hey, tell you what. Do this, and I won't say another word to you ever again." Cardin shrugged and twirled his mace in his hand. "Truth be told, I'm getting bored screwing with you, so I figured it might as well end with a bang. Do this one little thing for me, and I won't say a word. Not to Ozpin, or Goodwitch, or anyone else."

Jaune drew his arm back and aimed at Pyrrha. For what felt like an eternity, he stood there, at the brink of putting the final phase of Cardin's plan into motion. With that one jar of sap, he'd leave Pyrrha a broken and sobbing mess, easily persuaded into leaving Beacon for good. Cardin nodded to Russell. His shadow slid across the forest floor, swallowed one of Jaune's shoes, and fastened the laces around the root of a tree.

"Well?" Cardin asked. "We don't have much time."

Jaune’s hand fell "No."

That one little word set off an inferno in Cardin's chest. He wanted to scream, but he kept his voice to a sinister whisper. "What did you say?"

"I said no!" Jaune hurled the jar at him. Cardin automatically blocked it with his mace, but the glass shattered, and its contents splashed all over his weapon and chest. The bees inside the box Dove held went into a frenzy, but he had the good sense not to open it.

Before he could stop himself, Cardin rushed forward and grabbed Jaune by the hem of his shirt underneath the armor. He punches him in the eye, and he can tell from the feel of bone beneath his fingers that it'll leave one hell of a shiner.

"You know that wasn't very smart, Jauney boy. I'm going to make sure they send you to mommy in teeny, tiny pieces."

Sky tapped him on the shoulder. "Hey, maybe we should get out of here. Grimm are drawn to sweets too, remember?"

Cardin turned towards Sky, halfway to realizing that they should leave, but Jaune coughed and grabbed Cardin by the wrist. "I don't care what you do to me, but you are not messing with my team."

“What, you think talk like that makes you tough? You think you're a big strong man now?" Cardin threw another punch, this time intending to break his nose. Jaune screamed, and Cardin's fist was stopped by a brick wall of light. He staggered back and rubbed his aching fingers. Sky stepped in and kicked Jaune down from behind.

With his left hand, Cardin raised the mace high over his head. A tingle runs up his arm. Dove shouts something and grabs Cardin by the shoulder, but he didn't hear it.

Two piercing whistles snapped Cardin out of his bloodlust. Looking back where they had come from, an Ursa lumbered out of the forest. The bear-like Grimm stood ten feet tall on all fours, and it had bone plate covering its forelegs and back.

"That's a big Ursa!" Russell shouted.

Cardin returned his weapon to the loop on his belt. "That's an Alpha. Fall back and get the other groups."

Needing no further invitation, his teammates sprinted towards safetu. Cardin followed after them, but he stopped when he heard Jaune's panicked cry. Jaune struggled to get away as the shoe tied to the tree holds him in place. Cardin hesitated at the edge of the clearing, calculating whether his odds of survival would be better in front of an Ursa Alpha or having failed a mission for the Council.

The Ursa sniffed the air, and it ran past Jaune. Before Cardin could understand what was happening, the Ursa clobbered him with a blow to the side. His Aura soaked up most of the damage, but the blow stung all across his left arm.

Panicking, Cardin raised his weapon and pushed the trigger. Nothing happened. He tried again and again, but the chain refused to unfurl. A strangled whine came from the gears inside his weapon. Just as he had realized that the sap had gummed up his mace, the Ursa lumbered forward and knocked it out of his hands.

He tried running away, but the Ursa moved with speed that belied its monstrous size. Each attempt to dart into the thick tangle of trees was cut off by a swipe from the monstrous Grimm. Chunk after chunk of his Aura was gouged out, and he could feel the last of it flickering feebly around him. Swearing to himself, Cardin crawled away, towards the safety of a bush.

He remembered that Blake was supposed to be on watch. As he crawled, he craned his neck upwards, trying to see where she had gone.

She was perched in a tree branch about fifty feet above him, with a clear view of him and the Ursa. One hand was on her weapon, but she made no move to get down from the tree. When they made eye contact, she turned away from him.

He told himself he should've seen this one coming. Of course, when he needs everyone the most, his teammates left him out here, and his pawn was watching as an Ursa was about to tear his spine in half. The despair clutching his heart bubbles up as a panicked, maniacal chuckle as he rolls onto his back and stares death in the face. The Ursa raised one paw and lashed out with a killing blow.

Jaune, missing one shoe, leapt in front of Cardin, planted his feet, and took the full weight of the Ursa's blow on his shield. Jaune lashed out with his sword, scoring a shallow cut on its chest, but after he dodged a few blows, the Ursa got him with a punch to his chest. He got up, but blow after blow knocked him back into the dirt. His arms drooped to the ground from the weight of his sword and shield.

Cardin staggered to his feet. He found his mace lying ten feet off to his right, and he sprints for it. He could have kissed it, and almost did before he saw the other students watching from behind some trees. Professor Goodwitch was with them, watching, riding crop ready to step into the battle.

With a yell, Jaune charged at the Ursa, and it ran towards him. He lashed out with his sword, but his shield was too low to block the Ursa’s incoming blow. The shield trembled and inched up, but it rose too little too late. Aura lit the forest as Jaune took the blow to the side of the head. He rolled onto his knees, battered, bloodied, but breathing. Pyrrha ran a few steps forward, but Goodwitch pulled her back by her arm.

As the Ursa walked towards Jaune, Cardin jogged up to it, raised his mace over his head, and threw the last of his Aura into his arms. The mace flew into the Ursa's hind leg, smashing it to smoke and pulverizing the ground beneath it.

The Ursa howled and whirled to hit him, but Cardin danced out of its reach.

"Now Jaune!" Cardin yelled. "Go for the other leg!"

Jaune dropped his shield and raised his sword. The Ursa whirled in a circle, and Jaune's blade fell into the dirt. Hobbling forward on three legs, the Ursa lunged at Jaune, snapping at him with teeth the size of daggers.

A black blur fell from the sky and landed on the Ursa's back, narrowly missing the protruding spikes. The Ursa let out a muffled grunt, and its head slid off its shoulders.

Blake jumped off the Ursa as it dissolved away. As she slid her weapon back onto the magnetic sheath on her back, Ruby ran up to her, gushing about how awesome that was, but Blake moved past her and went to Jaune.

"You okay?"

Jaune took a deep, shaky breath and tried to put his sword away, only to find its sheath missing. "Yeah, I think I'm fine. You?"

Blake chuckled. It sounded strange to Cardin's ears, a sound that didn't match her brooding behavior. "I'm fine." She had something else to say, but a quick glance at Nora made her stop and turn away. Jaune looked crestfallen as he watched her go.

Just as Cardin was ready to consider the whole day ruined, he happened to see Pyrrha's face the second before she ran back to the Bullheads. Tears streaked her face as she held her shaking hands up in front of her.

Cardin left the box of wasps where it had fallen.


	11. Gluttony

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone. I don’t have much to say this time around, work was long and boring today, and I just want to sleep. To the reviewers saying how lucky Cardin was, it won’t last. To those wondering why Pyrrha’s so weepy this time around, I got some dialogue planned for her. Plus, she’s seventeen and not exactly emotionally stable in the show anyways.
> 
> Alright, that’s it. Enjoy.

**\-----------**

**Beta: HybridAlabaster**

Jaune was waiting for him in the hallway outside of his room, staring at the floor with his arms crossed. He wore his sword at his hip, which jutted up awkwardly as he leaned against a wall. He didn't look up when Cardin approached him.

"I made up my mind," Jaune said. "And I'm done. I'm not letting you tell me what to do anymore. Go ahead and tell Goodwitch."

"Nah, I won't."

Jaune blinked and looked up. "Wait, what?"

"Go ahead, stay." Cardin made a show of studying his fingernails and picking at them. "I don't care. I was getting bored of pushing you around anyways."

"So, that's it? You're just letting it go? What, is it because I saved your life?"

"Believe what you want. Just stay out of my way, and we won't have any problems. Are we clear?"

"I, uh, yes Cardin."

Cardin shoved his way past Jaune and entered his room. Sky, Dove, and Russell were stashing jars of sap underneath a bed.

"Why did you stay behind?" Dove asked.

Cardin sat on his bed and set his Scroll on the nightstand. "The plan would fall through if Jaune died. Pyrrha would move on, and it'd be back to square one."

"The Ursa would've followed you anyways," Sky put in. "You were covered in that sap."

"Which also gummed up my weapon, by the way. Russell, could you take care of it?"

Russell took his mace and listened to the squeal of stuck gears inside. "Shit, that's a mess. I think it'll have to soak overnight."

As Russell dug up a bucket from the closet and squirted soap into it, Cardin studied his teammates. Sky glanced at him from time to time and quailed under his stare, while Dove took out his Scroll and texted someone.

"I wonder what my father would make of me nearly dying to a Grimm while my teammates ran for their lives."

A sudden chill swept through the room like a blizzard. Sky went white as a sheet and clutched his knees and Russell nearly dropped the bottle of soap. Dove showed no obvious reaction, but his eyes seemed to stare through the Scroll in his hand.

"You told us to go," Sky said with a shaky voice. "We thought you were right behind us!"

Russell set the bottle down and turned to face him. "Exactly. If I knew you were going to stay behind, I'd have been with you."

Cardin watched their faces intently. Sky twitched, but he otherwise held his gaze, and Russell showed no hint of guilt. Dove continued to ignore him.

"So, you made it to the clearing and saw I was missing. Why didn't you run back?"

"We did," Russell said. "Goodwitch stopped us from stepping in. Ask her if you don't believe me."

Cardin raised an eyebrow at that. It was an excellent alibi, and he could find no other reason to fault them. Yet, Dove's false attention to his Scroll bothered him.

"You've been awfully quiet."

Dove looked up. Cardin peered with a hawk's intensity into his eyes, but his teammate didn't move a muscle.

"They said it all," Dove said with a shrug.

Cardin returned the gesture. "Fair enough. I'll report the incident to my father as an error in judgement on my part. In fact, why don't we get that phone call taken care of right away."

The conversation was brief, as his father signaled that he didn’t have that much time. Once Cardin got through the bare bones of the story through and assured him he wasn't in any imminent danger, he told him that he was to blame for his teammates desertion, using a code word to emphasize its truth.

"There,” Cardin said once the line went dead. “Nothing to worry about."

Sky exhaled and collapsed on his bed. Russell gave him a smile and a nod, and Dove went back to his Scroll.

"Now that we have that out of the way, we still need to deal with Nora."

"Oh right!" Sky bolted up and fumbled his Scroll out of his pocket. "I did a little digging around school records and noticed that someone has been sneaking out to steal from the kitchens."

Cardin nodded. "They haven't figured out it's her yet?"

"Nope. They've narrowed it down to a handful of rooms, and she's come under suspicion, but the teachers don't have evidence."

With a grin, Cardin said, "I think I'll get some late night training in at one of the rooms. Are you down for it Russell?"

Russell twirled a knife in his hand. "Without your weapon?"

Cardin held up his hands. "I got two right here."

"Keep getting cocky like that, and I might win. You're on."

He checked the logistics of his schedule and found space for another meeting with Blake. He stared for minutes at their message history, remembering the gleam in her eyes as she watched him get mauled by an Ursa. With a deep breath, Cardin sent a text and snapped the Scroll shut.

The rest of the Friday afternoon was treated as a study hall period. Port and Oobleck had heaped mounds of homework on them both, and Cardin would've been miles behind had he not gone over the reading with Blake the night before. As it was, the mere act of reading the questions on the assigned worksheets had him twitching in his bed for hours. A break for dinner offered some reprieve, but by the time he could leave to see Blake, his legs felt too cramped to ever straighten again.

"I can't take any more of this," Cardin said to his teammates. "I'm going for a walk. Anyone in?"

All three shook heads over their books. Russell said that he'd meet him at the room an hour before curfew. Cardin got up with a groan, stretched, and left the room. In the downstairs gym, he jogged the soreness out of his calves and thighs and pressed a few hundred pounds until his arms ached.

Beacon’s halls were deserted, with all the first years either at the library or in their rooms, while the upper classmen patrolled Vale's streets with police and senior hunters. The classroom looked empty when he opened the door. He took a few steps inside, and the door slammed shut behind him. The point of Gambol Shroud dug into the back of his neck.

"Jaune should've let you die," Blake hissed.

Cardin's breath hitched, but he forced himself to relax. When he noticed his hands shaking, he crammed them in his pockets and cradled the jars of sap inside. "So, you're thinking of killing me yourself? We talked about that Blake."

"I don't care anymore! I'm tired of being pushed around. I'm tired of listening to Yang and Weiss bicker every time they're in the same room, I'm tired of doing your homework and stringing Jaune along." She pulled back her sleeves, revealing red welts on her skin. "I got stung getting those damn wasps for you. I'm done! And if you're going to turn me over to the police, I have no choice but to kill you."

"Go ahead then, do it." Despite the dryness of his throat, the words came out in a silken whisper. "Do it, and see how far you can run."

The point trembled on his neck and pressed until it bit into his Aura. He felt a slight sting and a warm trickle as a drop of blood ran down his back.

"You should aim lower, at the liver," Cardin said. "The blade might get turned aside by my vertebrae."

"Shut up! Do you really want to die?"

"Of course not, but I probably will anyways. If it's not you, it'll be another student, or one of my teammates. If there was anyone my father could marry safely, he’d have drowned me with his own hands. Well, he'd order someone else to do it, but that's besides the point." Cardin chuckled. "The point. Yang must be contagious."

"Then why did you come?"

Cardin turned around slowly. The blade slid across his neck, nearly slitting his throat, until the point rested on his Adam's apple.

"I thought about cutting you loose and having the police drag you away, but I decided that you're more use to me here."

"I left you to die!"

"You didn't see my teammates stick around, did you?"

Inch by inch, the blade drew away, and Blake lowered it to her side. "So, what? Things go back to the way they were before?"

"Well, I won't trust you to do something that important again, but yes. That includes dating Jaune, once I get Nora out of the way."

"That's what the sap was for?" Blake asked. "You were going to have him hurt his own teammate just to play around with Jaune some more?"

Blake's accusation caught him off guard, but once he realized what Blake had assumed, he had to smother his delight.

"What, did you think I'd just walk up to Nora and ask, hey, could you stop trying to get in Blake's way? I'm trying to run a nefarious scheme here. Getting her to hate Jaune was the fastest way to keep her off you."

"And you're going to try again?"

" I found a new angle. With luck, it'll all be sorted out tonight."

Blake's mouth curled in disgust. "Do I even want to know what you have planned?"

"I don't mind telling you, if you'd like to know. Maybe I'd even let you help out a little."

She studied him in the darkness and turned away. "Keep me out of it."

"Suit yourself." He took out his Scroll and checked the time. "We have a while to curfew. Let's make the best of it."

"And have us both return at the same time?"

Cardin grinned at her. "I think I'll be a bit late to my room, if you catch my meaning."

Blake glared at him and took out a book. An hour later, Cardin had another week's worth of reading done. She left first, creeping down the hallways. Cardin lingered another ten minutes, getting homework done on his scroll, until a few minutes remained before eleven.

Russell was waiting in front of a training room. He waved as Cardin approached, and they went inside together. They stripped out of their uniforms down to the t-shirt and underwear, stood at either end of the room, and rushed at each other.

Despite Cardin's bigger size and larger store of Aura, he tired out first as Russell's daggers carved him up like a pumpkin. Cardin got in a few hits, including a shot to the face that was already turning Russell’s cheek purple, and Russell scored a few cuts along Cardin's forearms.

They were sweating and breathless by the time curfew hour approached. They left the room ten minutes to midnight and waited in the hall just outside the door. On the hour, all the lights turned off with an audible pop, drowning the school in darkness.

Fumbling around in the dark hallways, Cardin and Russell made their way along a wall until moonlight illuminated an exit. Once outside, they stayed within the shadows, hidden by the uniform's darker color, and made their way to the outside of the cafeteria.

The main dining area had high, spacious ceilings, numerous windows, and a wide set of doors, but the kitchen and the adjoining cellar were squat, sturdy buildings. A chimney towered above them, cold and quiet. A faint burnt smell pervaded the ground around the kitchen, where ashes drifted down and coated the grass in a thin film of cooking grease.

"How do you think Nora gets in?" Russell asked as they settled down under a tree.

"Knowing her, the most insane way possible. My money's on the chimney."

Russell chuckled. "I think it's a window. The chimney's way too high up."

"Bet fifty lien on it?"

Russell took out his wallet and looked at the fat wad of bills inside. "You're on."

About twenty minutes later, a muffled boom echoed from off to their left. A pink flash lit up the ground, and an indistinct shape flew high into the air, landing on the kitchen roof. A second explosion carried the figure even higher, up to the lip of the chimney, where it disappeared.

Russell passed Cardin a fifty-lien note. "Should've known. Are we crashing the party?"

"Not from the chimney, I don't want to get my clothes dirty. Why don't we try the door?"

Getting in the dining hall was simple enough, as the doors had no locks, but the kitchens had a cutting-edge Scroll-lock, requiring a registered Scroll and secondary password verification.

Russell's shadow slipped under the door, and with a click, it opened.

"They really need to lock both sides," Russell said. "You'd think they'd know better, since they have all kinds of Semblances here."

"If they wanted to see what students can do with their powers, giving them ways to break the rules isn't a bad idea. It lets you see how they think."

"So, you think they know we're sneaking in here?"

Cardin glanced up at the ceiling. Though he couldn't see them, he knew there was a camera there. Beacon had cameras everywhere.

"Absolutely. We're not getting in trouble for it, because then all the students would know they're being watched."

"Great," Russell said sourly. "Think they know what we're up to?"

"Knowing Ozpin, yes. And also knowing Ozpin, he won't do anything about it." Cardin waved at where he thought a camera might be. "He's very cautious, and he has a hard enough time with the Council of Lords at the moment, considering the current Dust crisis and that donation to Menagerie." Cardin peered through the open doorway. "Now, are we going to stand here and talk politics tonight, or are we going to get some blackmail material on Nora?"

Russell pushed the door open all the way. "Ladies first."

"Nora's already inside," Cardin pointed out as he went through.

Though all the lights were turned off, the screens on the ovens gave off enough light to illuminate the counters. Cardin led the way through the maze of sinks, stoves, and racks of silverware to the cellar door at the back. The door was unlocked and left wide open.

The cellar was pitch dark, but the cacophony of slurping and munching sounds was all the proof Cardin needed that Nora was in there. They turned on the lights on their Scrolls and entered the cellar on tiptoes, not making a sound. Following the sounds of eating, they passed racks of canned vegetables, jam, and fruit preserves in glass jars until they came upon a pile of rice sacks.

Nora sat on top of the pile, surrounded by empty jars, with both hands scooping canned apples and pickled beets. She paused with the pilfered food halfway to her mouth.

"Hey, I got here first! Go get your own!"

Cardin gestured to Russell. With a grin, he held his Scroll up for Cardin to see. It was already recording. "You're not supposed to be here," Cardin said.

Nora squinted and peered into the light. "You. What are you doing here? And you're not supposed to be here either!"

"Actually, Professor Goodwitch asked us to monitor the pantry tonight." Russell shot him a worried look, and Cardin nodded back. "She had noticed that food was going missing, and she wanted to find the culprit. I had an alibi, since I was at home during one of the robberies, so she asked for my help."

"Robbery?" Nora asked. She held up a jar with her hand still inside of it. Beet juice ran down her arm and spilled onto the floor. "It's the school's job to feed us, right? I'm just getting myself a midnight snack, that's all."

"It's against school rules to take food from storage without permission. I'm afraid that I'll have to inform Professor Goodwitch, and you'll likely get detention for it." He held his Scroll so Nora could see his face and gave her the most sinister grin he could manage. "I also imagine she'll make extra sure you never get to sneak into the kitchens again. You won't be getting any more midnight snacks."

The color left Nora's face. "But – but I get so hungry! I can't wait until morning! Ren used to have snacks in our room, but he says he can't buy any more! I tried taking some from lunch, but Professor Goodwitch yelled at me for keeping it in the lockers, then I tried keeping them on me during practice, but it all got squished and icky in my gym clothes."

"How unfortunate," Cardin deadpanned, "But it's no excuse for breaking the rules."

Tears poured down Nora's face like rain. "Please, I can't take it any more! All those times staying up with Pyrrha, I get so hungry staying up all the time! I can't not eat! Ren says I have to eat or I'll stop moving, and if I stop moving I can't keep him safe, so please don't tell Professor Goodwitch!"

"I can't promise that," Cardin said. He waited until the moment she broke down in despair before adding, "Not unless you do me a little favor."

Nora's head shot up. "What favor?"

Cardin had to pause for a moment. He hadn't thought it would be this easy, and now that he had her attention, he didn't know how to phrase his request. Outright asking her to leave Blake alone would be too suspicious, but if he wasn't direct enough with his request, Nora might interfere again.

All he could do here was roll the dice.

"I want Pyrrha to drop out of the Vytal Festival."

Russell jumped and tried to shut the recording off, but Cardin set a hand on his arm. He gave him a wide-eyed, puzzled stare, but he kept recording.

Nora wiped away her tears. "You what?"

"If I'm going to win the tournament, I'd have to defeat the toughest students in the world. It would be a lot easier if I defeated them before the tournament ever started, don't you agree?"

Nora went silent for a minute. Her hands trembled and clenched, and the jars around them shattered. "It's you, isn't it? You're the one making Blake date Jaune."

Cardin's eyes darted over to Russell. He flinched and glanced at Cardin, and hastily looked away. Cardin turned back to Nora. "Blake does what she does of her own free will. I'm simply taking advantage of it."

Nora stood on top of the sack and looked down at them. "Never! I'll never help a bad guy like you!"

"Not even for this?" Cardin asked, taking a jar of sap out of his pocket. The pink fluid glowed in the light of their Scrolls. Drool slipped out of the corner of Nora's mouth as she studied the jar.

"Just leave Jaune and Blake alone, and help convince Pyrrha that she should leave Beacon. You could say that she needs a fresh start away from Jaune. Maybe Vacuo? I hear Vacuo's lovely at this time of year. She could go home too, they'd be happy to have her back."

"No."

Cardin felt his stomach drop as he looked at Nora's face. Tears streaked her cheeks, and her eyes were getting puffy and red from all the crying, but she looked down at him with grim determination.

"You're not taking my offer?"

Nora laughed at him. "You think I'm afraid of being hungry? Ren and I went years on just what we could dig up from the side of the road. We ate grubs under rocks and crunchy roots, we cooked dead animals and ate them. I was hungry all the time back then, but Ren always found a way to get food for me." She slid down the bags and dusted herself off. "Friends always take care of each other. I'm not going to stab mine in the back for a snack."

Magnhild was leaning on one of the shelves. She picked it up and hefted it over her shoulder. As she strode past them, Nora turned and swung the head of her hammer at Cardin's face, but he ducked underneath it.

"Well, fuck," Russell said after he turned off the recording. "I don't think that could have gone worse."

Russell went towards the door, but he stopped when he saw Cardin was still standing there. Taking a deep breath, Cardin said, "You knew, didn't you?"

Russell bit his lip. "I heard the two of you in that classroom, the end of it, anyways. When you started getting ahead on your reading and you started going out to exercise more often, it wasn't hard to figure out why. Absolutely genius, by the way, making Blake date Jaune."

"Thanks," Cardin said dryly. He was all to aware that his mace was soaking in cleaning fluid in his bedroom, and Russell had both of his knives. Russell stood in between him and the only exit out of the cellar, and he was nearly out of Aura. "I take it you already told my father?"

"I didn't have much of a choice."

Cardin thought through how he could knock Russell into one of the shelves and run past, but where would he go? All he could do now was trust that Blake's secret was still safe, somehow.

"He doesn't object?"

Russell went quiet for a moment. He leaned against a shelf, took out one of his daggers, and picked at his fingernails with it. Cardin tried not to let the sudden tension in his body show.

"He only told me to watch and find out everything I can. I haven't figured out where you meet or what else you do besides read."

"I have her give me combat lessons," Cardin said, "Over in the wooded area near the Emerald Forest. Let my father know so it looks like you're making progress."

Russell twirled the knife and shoved it back into his pocket. "Sweet. We can just pretend that I was watching the whole thing, I don't feel like sitting up in a tree for an hour."

Which is as good as saying he'll be there every night from now on. He'll have to warn Blake so she doesn't do anything stupid.

"So, what now?" Russell asked. "Are we going to turn her into Goodwitch?"

Cardin took a deep breath. There's a cold, gnawing sensation in his chest as the nerves get to him, but he shoves it aside. "We'll have to wait on it. If everything with Jaune falls apart, I'll have the whole rest of the team kicked out." With a grin, he asked, "As good as Pyrrha is, there's no way she would be able to win four against one, right?"

Russell shook his head. "I dunno, I have a feeling she could. I got knocked around like a soccer ball last week, and I didn't even get a scratch on her shield, let alone her Aura. I swear she was toying with me."

He only half-listened to Russell as they walked back to their dorm. As he muttered in response to Russell's questions, he reviewed everything he and Blake had said together. Some of their rooftop meetings would've been disastrous for Russell to have overheard, but the window was always shut, and even so, he made sure they had kept their voices down. The mock battle was worse – it would've been hard to see in the dark, but her ribbon had fallen off for a few minutes. All it would take is one mistake, and all his plans would tumble around him.

As bad as it would be if his father found out, if any other Duke caught wind of this, it'd be a death sentence.

As Russell knocked and Sky opened the door for them, Cardun looked at each of his teammates. Dove, already asleep and buried under the covers, Sky, bleary-eyed from hours peering at his Scroll, and Russell, still flushed with victory and excitement from their battle, all three of them spying on him for someone else. Maybe just for his father, maybe for someone else.

He smiled, put on his pajamas, and went to bed.


	12. Famine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again, and welcome to another non-Cardin POV chapter! Our guest for this week’s look into the Cardinverse is none other than the sullen, silent ninja. No, the other one. Not that one either. Yes, Ren, that’s the one.
> 
> Lots of ninja types in RWBY, aren’t there? I mean, sure, Ilia’s kind of a stretch, but for the sake of a joke, it counts.
> 
> Okay, got that out of my system. Easter weekend’s going to be a rough one for me, lots of traveling to do, lots of family to see, all that jazz. I had today off, luckily, but it was given over to more family time. Had enough time to put the final touches on this one, but, yeah, I’ve been busy.
> 
> Also, should’ve mentioned this last week, but the new story I was talking about (The Last Sage, a Pokemon Fanfic) hit the virtual shelves last Sunday. If you’re interested, check it out. If not, at least you have this.
> 
> Thanks again for all the reviews, follows, faves, etc. Input is always appreciated.
> 
> So, what else? I made banana crème pie. Crust, custard, whipped cream, all from scratch. It was awesome.
> 
> Oh, btw, free pancake recipe in the story. Just scale it down so you don’t have a Nora-sized mound to eat.

\----------

Beta: Hybrid Alabaster

Half a stick of butter in the microwave. One quart buttermilk. Four eggs cracked on the counter until they fell apart in his fingers, shell fragments tenderly pried apart and held back from the gooey yolk. Whisk together. Four cups flour, a quarter cup sugar, four teaspoons baking powder, half that baking soda, half a teaspoon salt, all mixed together until it just comes together, thick and lumpy. Yank the bowl out of Nora’s reach as she dipped a finger in the batter. Except, this time, she didn’t.

Medium heat on the skillet. Batter on, two spoonfuls per pancake. Nora should be hovering over his shoulder, babbling about sloths and crooning at the pancakes as they cook, but she was in the chair, staring absently at her empty plate. She didn’t say a word.

Flip once bubbles rise to the top. Wait for the sizzle to die down. Nora should be trying to scoop the pancakes off the skillet. He should be fending her off with the spatula. She was balancing a fork on her plate and he was holding the spatula like a katana, glancing over his shoulder for the assault that wasn’t coming.

Pancakes off, golden brown on both sides. A dollop of butter over top, followed by a puddle of maple syrup. Set a spoonful of batter down, cooked pancake on, another spoonful over top. He ghad tried telling her again and again the pancakes won’t cook properly, but she had insisted on her double pancakes. Twice the eating power, she would say. She didn’t. Flip and repeat, more butter and syrup, stack it high and set in front of Nora.

She stared at the mountain of bloated pancakes with puffy red eyes. One hand was on her stomach, as if crushing it will make her feel less empty. The other prodded the pancakes with a fork.

“Where did you get this?” she asked with a hollow voice.

Ren had waited until the morning after to make these pancakes. He had hoped that a little time would make her forget that Cardin had offered her these ingredients, but he should have known better than to bank on Nora’s short attention span. Her mind was a steel trap for all things pancakes.

“Someone had thrown away all these perfectly good ingredients. I know it’s undignified to go dumpster diving, but it seemed such a waste.”

At this, some of Nora’s cheer returned. A single slice with the fork cleaved all four double-pancakes. She held up the quivering forkful in front of her. “Don’t worry, I don’t care that you’re dumpster babies. I’ll treat you like you’re my own.”

Within seconds, the stack was gone. Nora smiled, but the tired, haggard appearance on her face remained.

“I can’t keep doing this, Ren.”

“Doing what?”

Nora bent over and licked up all the syrup. Ren took it out from under her once she was done.

“Pyrrha’s a mess. Every time I think she’s starting to get better, something else sets her off. Now she’s upset because Blake saved Jaune instead of her.

Ren sighed and washed the plate. “There’s nothing we can do for her. She hasn’t even told him how she feels, much less went out with him. If she doesn’t learn how to handle her emotions now, there’s no telling how she will handle an actual crisis.”

“We still have to help her. She’s our teammate.” She straightened and turned towards him. “She’s our friend.”

“How?” Ren asked. “Should we make Jaune go out with her? Should we force him and Blake apart? How would that be fair to them?”

“They don’t even want to be together. Cardin’s making them.”

Ren had heard Nora say all sorts of crazy things over the years. Whether it’s conspiracy theories about how squirrels are plotting to overthrow the Kingdoms and sloths are the only ones stopping them, or plans to use Magnhild to launch herself to the moon, he thought he knew whether or not Nora was serious. All the craziness was Nora being Nora.

But this? This wasn’t Nora.

“Cardin’s making them?” he echoed back.

“Yep. He’s trying to make Pyrrha sad because he’s mean. I have to stop him.”

Ren thought to himself as he ladled more batter onto the skillet. Between puzzling over how Cardin could make Blake do anything, what he would gain out of making such a match, and what could possibly be done about it, he felt his brain tying itself in knots.

“What are you going to do?” He slapped another stack of pancakes in front of Nora.

She wolfed down the stack without answering him. Once she was done, she held out the plate.

“That’s all I had,” Ren said. “I’ll have to get more from the store.”

With a growl, Nora threw the plate on the floor, shattering it into pieces.

“Damn him!” she yelled. “If I sneak into the kitchens again, he’s going to tell Goodwitch.”

Ren grabbed a broom, swept up the sticky pieces, and hid them at the bottom of the garbage can. “I told you not to.”

“But what else was I supposed to do? We don’t have any food, and Pyrrha’s keeping me up all night. I can’t wait until morning!”

“I’ll try to find some more food. Maybe I’ll get lucky and find more in the garbage.”

Nora gave him a skeptical glance. Even with his back to her, Ren felt Nora’s suspicion.

The door opened with a soft click. Pyrrha glanced into the room, hiding behind the door. When she saw that Jaune was absent, she shuffled into the room and sat next to Nora. If Nora looked a little worse for wear, her face looked as though a hurricane had torn it to pieces. Her hair was a tangled mop that flopped over her eyes, her clothes hadn’t been changed since the field trip, and dark bags shadowed her eyes.

“Making breakfast again?” she asked in a dreary voice.

“Just finished,” Ren said. “I would offer you some, but Nora already ate all I had.”

“No, I’m quite alright. I’m not hungry.” Pyrrha sagged into her chair. “Hey Ren, can I ask you for some advice?”

“People always do,” Ren muttered.

“What was that?”

“I said that I am here for you.”

Pyrrha took a deep breath and straightened her hair. “Well, I think you know why I haven’t exactly been doing well lately.”

“Yes, I am aware,” Ren answered.

“Both you and Nora have been extremely helpful. I don’t know what I would do without wonderful friends like you.” She put a hand on Nora’s shoulder. Nora reached up and gave the hand a gentle squeeze. “But I can’t keep being like this forever. It’s going to affect how we do as a team.”

Pyrrha’s breath hitched and tears ran down her face. Ren groaned inwardly and prepared himself for a monologue.

“I know I’m being stupid, getting this sad over someone I just met, and I’m not really sure why.” She glanced at the door, but the hallway outside is empty and silent. “Jaune is sweet, and kind, and he’s not afraid to talk to me and just be himself. I wanted to tell him how I felt since the day we became partners, but I was terrified he would think I was being too pushy, or that I was taking things too fast, or he wasn’t interested in me. So, I waited. I waited for him to ask me out. Then he started asking Weiss out. I felt so angry about that, angry at myself for not doing anything, angry at her for turning him down without a thought, like he was a piece of trash at her feet.” With a sniffle, she added, “And yes, angry at him for asking her instead of me. I felt so horrible about that, like what right do I have to get angry at him because he thinks she’s prettier than I am? How selfish could I be?”

Tears formed a puddle on the table. Ren grabbed a towel out of the cabinet, one of the softer dish rags, and handed it to Pyrrha. She mopped up the puddle and dabbed her face dry.

“But then he asked Blake. After Weiss helped talk me into being direct with my feelings, he just had to go and ask someone else, and she just had to accept.” Her head hit the table with a dull thud. “I know that they’re just dating, that they could decide to stop at any time, but it feels like I’ve lost him forever. How the hell am I supposed to tell him how I feel when he has a girlfriend? How am I supposed to stop thinking about it when I share the same dorm room with him, when I have to watch him get ready for a date with her? Every time I feel like I’m starting to get better, that I can finally stop thinking about it, he’ll mention Blake and I start crying again. See? It’s happening now!”

Nora patted her shoulder as Pyrrha wiped her face on her sleeve. Her nose sniffled as she took deep breaths.

“It’s getting so bad that it’s affecting my Semblance. Since yesterday, I can’t even use it half the time!”

“What is your Semblance?” The question darted off Ren’s tongue before he could stop it.

Pyrrha flinched and gave a delirious chuckle. “Right, we never told each other our Semblances. Might as well, since it’s not good for anything else these days.” Frowning at her hands, Pyrrha stayed silent for a long moment. Ren started to wonder if she would change her mind, but she said, “It’s polarity. I can manipulate metal.”

And suddenly, her flawless win record made a lot of sense.

Nora bunched up one of her biceps and said, “Mine’s super zappy strength! If I get hit with a lightning bolt, I get super strong.”

“I can suppress negative emotions. Useful for hiding from Grimm.”

“Is that why you’re always so calm?” Pyrrha thought for a moment. Excitement tinged her voice as she asked, “Is there any way that could help me?”

Ren shook his head. “It doesn’t work like that, and even if I did, I couldn’t keep it up for long.”

Pyrrha sank back down. “Oh, right. Sorry, that was silly of me.”

“Not at all. If I could, I would do it for you.”

“Thank you. So, anyways, now my Semblance isn’t working because of all this.” She gestured at her tear-streaked face. “And at this rate, it’s only a matter of time before I get unlucky and someone beats me.”

“So,” Ren said, “Your problem is that you need a way to address your feelings so you can move on.”

“Exactly. The problem is, I can’t tell Jaune how I feel, not like this. It’s not fair to him or Blake when they’re already in a relationship that I try to butt in.” She broke down into sobbing and buried her face in her arm. “I can’t stand this! Every time I think about it, I get so angry, then I feel so ashamed at myself for feeling angry and start crying, and I get angry for crying about it!”

Ren leaned in while Pyrrha paused to bawl her eyes out. “Is she like this all night?”

“You have no idea.”

Pyrrha straightened and slammed her hands on the table. “So, Ren, I need your advice. What should I do? Should I just tell Jaune how I feel, or should I wait?”

“You should pin him to the wall, lean in really close to his face, and tell him how much you want him!” Nora said.

Pyrrha’s face turned scarlet, and she turned away from Nora. “Ren?”

Ren studied Pyrrha while he sifted through his thoughts. Her emotions were a knot he had no idea how to untangle. Perhaps Nora was right, and an aggressive play would get Jaune interested in her, but it could also push him away. Even that rejection might do her good, or it could make her spiral out of control.

There was also Cardin to consider. Though Nora’s claim that he was forcing Jaune and Blake together still seemed ridiculous, Cardin was definitely interested in Pyrrha’s declining emotional state. If Pyrrha started to recover, he might withhold the food he had promised Nora.

Pyrrha, or Nora? That question was too easy for him to answer.

“I think you should wait,” Ren said. Nora opened her mouth to object, but he cut her off. “I agree with Nora that just waiting will make the situation worse. I only ask that you wait until I can talk to Jaune about his feelings for Blake. If it turns out he’s not that interested, I’ll convince him to break up with her, and that will be your chance.”

Nora frowned at him, but Pyrrha’s face lit up. “Oh Ren, that’s perfect!” She leapt out of the chair and hugged him. Tears soaked into his shoulder. “Thank you so much!”

“I can’t make any promises Pyrrha,” Ren said.

“I know. Thank you anyways.” Pyrrha sniffled and straightened her hair. “I need to talk to Professor Oobleck about the homework I missed, then I’ll be in the library. Let me know how it goes.”

Nora stood up and followed after her. Ren, covered in a light dusting of flour and with a wet spot on his shoulder, decided to hit the shower while Pyrrha wasn’t living in the bathroom. As soon as he finished drying off his hair and stepped out of the shower wearing nothing but a towel, Jaune walked into the dorm room.

“There you are! Ren, can we talk?”

Before Ren could grab his clothes, Jaune dragged him over to his bed and sat Ren down next to him.

“So, Ren,” Jaune said, “I’m just going to come out and say it. You are one of my best friends. I feel that we’ve really bonded since we became teammates, even though you don’t say much. I mean, you’re really quiet. I don’t know much about you to be honest, but I consider you to be the brother I never had.”

Ren sat there, shivering in his bath towel, mere inches away from the dresser with his clothes, wondering what he did to deserve being everyone’s guidance counselor. How did people expect him to help them with their emotions when he didn’t even have any of his own?

“And I you,” he said mechanically.

Jaune faltered, pressing forward word by word. “Which is why I wanted to get your advice on girls.”

“Girls?”

While Jaune was distracted, Ren reached for his clothes. Inch by inch, he pried open his dresser until he had just enough room to pull out his combat clothes.

“I mean, well, uh, I was wondering, how did you and Nora, you know, get together?”

Ren’s hand froze just as it touched his clothes. “Together?” A chill crept up his spine as he remembered the screams of dying men, the smell of smoke and blood burning his mouth, and the bright flash of red as the Nuckelavee sliced his mother in half.

“Yeah, well, I mean, you two have such great chemistry together, so I thought, you should know by now how to tell what a girl’s thinking.”

Ren let out a relieved sigh as the memories receded. “Oh, we’re not together like that.”

“Really? It’s just that you’re always together, and you cook for her all the time, so, you know…”

“Jaune, what is this all about?”

“It’s Blake. I – I don’t know what to make of her.” Jaune took a deep breath and leaned back in his bed. “I didn’t expect her to say yes when I asked her. I don’t even know why she said yes. On our date, she didn’t even really act like she was interested in me, at least, I don’t think so. We talked for a while, and it was kind of fun even though so many things went wrong, so part of me thinks maybe she does like me, but I just don’t get why.”

“Why did you ask Blake out?” Ren asked.

Jaune covered his eyes with a hand. “Promise you won’t tell anyone?”

“I promise.”

“Well, Cardin told me to. That’s why.” Jaune bounced forward and slapped his hands on his lap. “He had me ask her out as a joke, and she said yes, and now I have no idea what to do. I don’t even know if I want to keep dating her. Do I just want another date because I’m excited just to have a girlfriend, or do I really have feelings for her? Does she feel the same way, and how would I know?” Jaune chuckled. “I thought I’d know how girls work since I have seven sisters, but with Blake, I have no idea.”

“Seven sisters?” Ren asked. He grabbed his clothes, yanked them off the hangar, and drew them onto the bed.

“Yeah, and not a single brother. I kept asking my parents for one, but they would always say the store was – that’s not the point. The point is, I don’t know what I should do about Blake. Should I just go and ask her how she feels, or should I wait?”

Nora, or Jaune? Another easy question.

“It’d be better if I ask her,” Ren said. “She might expect you to know how she feels, which I know, isn’t exactly fair. If she’s interested, I’ll let you know to ask her on another date, and if not, then you can break it off and find someone else.”

Jaune smiled at him and clapped a hand on his shoulder. The touch felt uncomfortably close on bare skin. “Thanks Ren, I knew I could count on you.”

“No problem. Now, would you mind if I slipped into some clothes?”

“Oh! Sorry Ren, go ahead.” Jaune turned around in the bed. Ren considered going back to the bathroom, but he was cold enough already. He got the shirt on first, and then loosened the towel so he could slide into his underwear.

Just as he had his briefs halfway up his legs, Nora flung the door open. “Hey have you seen – oh.” She paused, eyes fixed on Ren. “Wow Renny, I didn’t expect you to swing that way. Jaune though, totally not a surprise.”

Jaune choked and leapt off the bed. “Uh, Nora, it’s not what it looks like.”

“Relax silly! I’m sure there’s a perfectly reasonable explanation for Ren getting out of his underwear on your bed.”

“But he’s–”

“She’s just teasing you,” Ren said as he put on his pants. “Nora, you should knock before you enter a room.”

“What? It’s not like I haven’t seen it before.”

Jaune started another choking fit while Ren drew up his pants. “Nora, stop.”

“Jeez Ren, you’re no fun today.”

“So, Nora, what were you looking for?” Jaune asked.

“Oh, it can wait. Have fun you two.” She winked and left the room.

Jaune buried his face in his pillow. “You just had to change in here, didn’t you?”

“You dragged me out here in a towel.”

“Fair point.”

Ren felt a headache coming. Between Pyrrha and Jaune wanting advice from him, and considering Cardin’s desires, his brain felt as though it had run a marathon. He might catch a quick nap in one of the trees outside if Nora didn’t see him slip away.

“Hey Ren, how did the two of you meet?”

“Hm?” The cold and the smoke were back.

“You know, Nora. Were you always together?”

“Yes, yes we were.” Ren rose and walked out the door. Jaune started after him, but he hesitated before the hallway.

The tree Ren had picked out was a short maple, stunted, stuck under the shadow of a mighty oak. Its gnarled branches had grown thin and spindly, but there was one branch with a long, shallow dip perfect for lying on, hidden from view by a dense veil of leaves thriving on that one branch against all reason.

When he made it up to the branch, he found that it was already occupied.

Blake had her eyes closed, and her hair was in a bunched-up tangle. Ren backed away, but he made the branch shake, and her eyes snapped open. In a panic, she raised her head, and her hair slid aside to reveal two feline ears. They drooped, and she sank into the foliage.

“Please don’t tell anyone,” she whispered.

Ren clambered up the tree branch and sat next to Blake. “Cardin knows, doesn’t he?”

“How do you know?”

Ren shrugged. “It was a hunch. Nora was saying earlier that Cardin was forcing you and Jaune to date.”

“That pretty much sums it up.”

“That’s messed up.”

Blake swatted leaves out of her hair. “I know, right? And he wants me to go on another date, maybe even more, or else he’ll have me arrested.”

“For being a Faunus? I don’t know much about Vale, but that seems a little extreme.”

“For being a member of the White Fang.”

Ren blinked. For a long moment, the only sound between them was the wind rustling through the branches.

“A member now, or…?”

“I quit,” Blake said bitterly. “Not that it’s going to matter to whoever Cardin tells. He had someone’s parents arrested just to prove a point. Made the phone call right in front of me. I heard the guy talking about it a few days later, so I know he wasn’t lying.”

Ren frowned. “So, what are you going to do?”

Blake sighed and buried her face in her hands. “I don’t have a choice. I’ll keep doing whatever he wants.”

“You could run away,” Ren said. “I don’t think you could re-enlist in another school, but if you laid low, in Menagerie or Vacuo, no one would find you.”

“I wish it was that simple.” She peered out of the trees. “You’re not going to tell this to anyone, are you?”

Ren shook his head. “I don’t like talking to people much.”

She smiled. “My parents are the Belladonnas. If I was wanted for arrest, there’d be repercussions for all of Menagerie. They might use it as an excuse for an embargo or travel restrictions.”

“I see. Well, I wish I could help you, but I’m afraid I have my hands full.”

“Wait!” Blake reached for him as he edged towards the trunk. “Could we at least talk again, like this?” Her ears pressed flat against her head. “It’s just, it felt good having someone to talk to.”

Ren sighed as he felt his skull creaking from the pressure in his head. He had almost told her that he was working for Cardin, but perhaps he could barter with what Blake said.

Blake, or Nora? Too easy.

“Sure Blake. I like sleeping in this tree, so I might talk if you happen to find me here.”

Just before dinner, Ren pulled Jaune aside and told him that Blake was still interested, and it might be wise to ask her out within a few days. When Pyrrha went off to the library to study alone, Ren walked with her part of the way and told her Jaune and Blake were still feeling things out, that there wasn’t any real affection yet and the whole thing might fizzle out. Both of them gave him warm smiles that made him feel queasy.

As they were getting ready for bed, and Pyrrha was preparing for another night crying in the shower, Nora pulled him out of their room. Other students gave them odd looks, as Nora was just in her underwear and had Ren pressed against a wall.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

“What do you mean?”

“That advice you were giving today, you’re not trying to help them.”

“I can’t help them, Nora, they’re going to have to figure things out for themselves.”

“Then at least try not to make things worse. Please? I don’t think I can take many more of these nights.”

It hurt him to see how red and tired her eyes were.

“Okay Nora. I’ll try.”


	13. Study Buddies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not much to tell this time around. Easter had me running around everywhere doing a whole bunch of family stuff, and I had a few meetings this week that bit into my free time. Other than that, nothing exciting.
> 
> Just realized Hybrid wasn’t credited in the last chapter, I’ll go back and fix that.
> 
> As far as this weekend goes, I got a day off, and I’m spending it making portabella burgers with potato wedges, and whatever other random things I find at the store. And meatloaf. I make a mean meatloaf. 
> 
> As far as reviews go, I wanted to give a shout-out to Just a Joe. Ren’s a character that I feel often goes overlooked, and I decided I wanted to fix that. Making sure everyone has their own agenda is my modus operandi – it practically writes the conflict for you and allows characters to interact in interesting ways, plus it prevents characters from coming off as bland by comparison. I’m also glad to hear you think the pacing’s good. That’s something I struggled with in my earlier work. 
> 
> With all that done, I think it’s time to work on the next chapter. I fell a bit behind thanks to time loss and motivation issues. Oh well, at least it’s shaping up to be an action-packed chapter that won’t take too long to write.

\----------

Beta: HybridAlabaster

Ren’s report had put Cardin in a wonderful mood. He had Pyrrha’s Semblance, it wasn’t working, and she would continue to stew while Jaune dates Blake. So, in accordance to his promise with Ren, that Monday evening, he went to Professor Goodwitch’s office.

She looked annoyed when he entered, but she hid it well. There was a large stack of homework that she was looking through, and the red pen in her hand looked as though she had almost worn it in half.

“Mr. Winchester, is there something I can help you with?”

“Me?” He asked with his largest, most innocent smile. “No, I don’t need anything, but I do know another student that could use your help.”

Professor Goodwitch gave him a kind smile somewhat spoiled by the shadows under her eyes and furrows in her forehead. “I would be more than happy to help.”

“Well, it would appear that one of your students is suffering from severe hunger pangs. They had used up not only their own stipend, but also their partner’s, to purchase additional food.”

The smile was gone now, and the furrows had grown deeper. “I was not aware of that. Had they come to me, I could have–”

“As they are not receiving enough food and have run out of funds to purchase more, they have taken to raiding the pantry at night, which is against school rules.”

“Yes, yes it is.” She folded her hands in front of her, over the paperwork. “What are you trying to say?”

Cardin pulled a chair from the corner of her room and sat down on it, propping his feet on her desk. She scowled and pulled her papers closer to her.

“Mr. Winchester, that is–”

“Do you understand how precarious your situation is?”

Goodwitch blinked and gawked at him. “Excuse me?”

Cardin picked at his fingernails. He waited until he could hear the professor grind her teeth. “Ozpin received additional funds from the Council to promote student welfare at Beacon and prepare them for the Vytal Festival. Imagine what they would think if they learn that he was not feeding his students enough.”

He heard the crinkle of leather as Goodwitch’s hand tightened on her riding crop. “Are you blackmailing me?”

“I blackmail lots of people. Now, I’m getting tired of doing all that extra reading Professor Oobleck’s been assigning me every week. I would also appreciate it if, say, if I were caught doing something frowned upon by this school, that it be overlooked, just like I’m overlooking the fact you’re letting your students starve.”

“I assume you have proof to show the Council?”

Cardin took out his Scroll, opened up a recording, and set it on the desk. Nora’s wailing, hysterical voice sounded tinny on the Scroll’s tiny speakers, and her tear-streaked face stared up at Goodwitch.

“I thought so,” she said. “After finding all that food in her locker.” She picked it up and looked more closely at it. Her jaw tightened, and one finger hovered over the screen.

“Delete it if it makes you feel better,” Cardin said. “I have copies.”

Goodwitch started, and the finger fell away. “I was looking for the volume control.” She handed it back to him. “I’m sorry Cardin, but I cannot allow any transgressions of school rules, nor can I remove Oobleck’s punishments. Ozpin will just have to deal with the consequences.”

“I wonder, would he agree with you on that?” Cardin stared her in the eyes and waited for her to look away. “His situation’s precarious enough without a scandal on his hands. Imagine if, say, they decide to entrust the management of the Vytal Festival, and its funds, to one of the Dukes?”

Professor Goodwitch gave him an expression that could have soured milk. “Threats won’t change my mind.”

“But they will change Ozpin’s.” He turned towards one of the ceiling’s corners and waved at it. “Right Ozpin?”

Goodwitch turned her chair to see what Cardin was waving at. “Very funny Mr. Winchester. I will see you tomorrow evening for detention. Now, unless you have anything else to say, please leave my office. I have a lot of homework to grade.”

Cardin smiled, kicked off the desk, and sauntered out of the room. Russell was waiting next to the door.

“Damn, she sounded pissed.”

“She’ll be even angrier tomorrow.”

The next day, Cardin was the first called up to battle. As he whirled his mace in his hand and inspected the cleaning Russell had done, Goodwitch leaned towards him and muttered, “Your detention is cancelled, as is your additional reading from Doctor Oobleck.” She scowled at him through the match and gave harsher critique of his reliance on Aura to land a counterattack, but otherwise, she said nothing. As the students left, she stopped Nora and had a short conversation with her. Goodwitch gave Cardin a passing scowl as he walked by them.

Nora was beaming with joy as she bounded and skipped into Oobleck’s class. She talked animatedly with Ren as she sat down next to him. Cardin stared, waiting for Ren to look for him. After a minute, Ren’s eyes roamed the classroom and settled on Cardin. He gave Ren a firm nod and opened up his textbook.

After the lecture, Ren lingered while Nora sprinted out of the room, and the other students walked out. Russell hung by the back wall, and Sky and Dove left with the rest.

Ren walked up to him and took the seat next to Cardin. “I thought you were going to be the one providing the food.”

“I said I’d make sure she got to eat however much she wanted. I never said I’d be the one footing the bill.”

“True,” Ren said, “But that means you can’t make them stop, can you?”

Cardin watched Ren out of the corner of his eye. Ren had a neutral, almost apathetic monotony of expression, and not a muscle in his face, chest, or arms twitched. It was as though someone had wrung all the emotion from him and left him to dry.

“Pretty smart of you, but don’t be sure. Watch this.” He rose his voice and waved at Oobleck. “Hey Professor!”

“That’s Doctor, Mr. Winchester,” he said. “Is there something that I can help you with?”

“Yes. What is the difference between a pickaxe and a Faunus?”

The Professor adjusted his glasses and took a swig of coffee. “Quite an interesting question you have posited, Mr. Winchester. Why, I could give you dozens of different, correct responses off the top of my head, but judging by your tone of voice and the nature of the question, I can only assume that you have some form of comedic intent in mind, and while I could imagine dozens of answers, I fail to find a single one that could possibly have any hint of humor. So, I would most appreciate it if you could proceed to the punchline.”

“Pickaxes don’t die when you use them for mining.”

Professor Oobleck bolted out of his seat. “Mr. Winchester, that was completely out of line! I am going to have to assign you–” Oobleck looked as though he had just bitten on a lemon. For a few seconds, his face twitched, and the coffee mug went nervously from his lips to his desk without a drop leaving it. With a deep sigh, he sat back down. “I would appreciate it if you could refrain from inappropriate humor in the future. Such ‘jokes’,” he said the word with a bitter snarl, “Perpetuate misunderstanding and mistreatment of a group of individuals that deserve our respect. Is that understood?”

“Perfectly clear, Professor.”

Doctor Oobleck went back to the book on his desk. Ren stared at him with the same unflappable expression.

“Impressive.”

“So,” Cardin said, “If you want things to stay the way they are, I advise you make sure Nora doesn’t get anywhere near Blake.” He thought for a moment, and added, “Or me, for that matter. She still wants to break my legs, right?”

“She’s worked her way up your ribcage. Making her hungry is the fastest way to make her furious.”

“Noted. Now, we better hurry before Nora realizes we’ve been talking.”

Ren took the cue rushed out of the room. Cardin followed at a leisurely pace and arrived at the free training period five minutes late. Goodwitch reprimanded him for tardiness, and in a lower whisper, told him not to push it.

Just as he was wondering to himself on the track how his day could possibly be going so well, Weiss raced up to him. She was nearly out of breath, but she fell in next to him.

“Hello Cardin,” she said, panting. “I know this is really sudden, but I was able to book a room at the library for a study group. I was wondering if you and Sky would like to come. Your other teammates are welcome as well.”

He tossed and turned her words in his head and found himself satisfied with her invitation.

“Who else would be there?”

“I invited Ruby and Blake, and a few students from other teams.”

Yang’s exclusion from the list of her teammates didn’t go unnoticedby Cardin. She had to have noticed that putting the two of them in the same room would end poorly. He made a mental reminder to reassess Weiss’ political expertise as he got the time and location from her.

Just after dinner, Cardin’s team went to the library. He had expected Russell to tag along, and Sky had leapt at the chance for a study group, but Dove’s acceptance surprised Cardin. After mulling it over, Cardin couldn’t see any specific reason Dove went besides getting homework done, and simply nodded in response.

Weiss was already at the room, writing notes on the whiteboards and sifting through a stack of old homework assignments. A quick glance showed him a lot of scores in triple digits. Bags of chips and a two-liter of soda sat on the table, along with stacks of Styrofoam cups and paper plates.

Weiss looked up when she saw the door open. “Cardin, do you think the tables should stay in a circle, or would setting them up in rows be better?”

“This is a study group, not a class, right? Circle.”

“I thought so, but I wanted a second opinion.” She counted the chairs. “We should have enough.”

Cardin also counted the chairs and wondered how many she had meant when she said a “few” students. It’d be harder to stay conspicuous with more people in the room, and it raised the chances of another spy, but it would make the group stand out less.

“Is there a particular topic of study?” Sky asked, setting his pack down on the table.

“Not really, just preparing for the exams. With the Vytal Festival coming up, the professors will be wrapping up the semester’s classes soon.”

“I have some notes from Doctor Oobleck when I went in for office hours. He said they would be topics on his exams.”

Weiss smiled at him and leaned over his shoulder. She sifted through the notes.

“Yes, those look perfect. Could you get the first two points on that whiteboard over there?”

Sky and Weiss went to work on the boards. Weiss wrote in slow, fluid strokes, while Sky attacked his board with furious scribbling. Russell helped himself to the bag of chips and some soda, while Dove took out his Scroll and sat in the corner. While his teammates were distracted, Cardin went up to Weiss’ side. Pretending to study her writing, Cardin took the note out of his jacket sleeve and reached towards the pocket on Weiss’ skirt.

Just as he slipped the note inside, the door slammed open. Cardin’s hand shot back, and he involuntarily glanced towards the door. Ruby Rose was holding two cartons of cookies in one arm and a jug of milk in the other. One carton fell to the floor. Ruby’s cheeks were turning red.

Cardin mentally slapped himself. With timing this awful, this had to be some kind of nightmare. His brain worked furiously to come up with some way to explain the situation, but Weiss beat him to it. “Ruby! You shouldn’t slam doors like that, this is a library!”

Ruby made some strangled sounds as she gingerly stepped into the room. She set the cookies and milk on the table, having forgotten the fallen carton, all the while watching Cardin. Sliding around him and practically leaning over the table in an effort to keep away from him, Ruby rushed towards Weiss and pulled her to the far corner of the room. Her voice was a harsh whisper, but in the tiny room, Cardin heard every word.

“Weiss, he was going to touch your butt!”

Cardin felt his cheeks burning. Weiss flushed and reached into the pocket. Her fingers found the note.

“It’s okay Ruby.”

“It’s okay! Seriously Weiss?”

“What, he was just–” She cut herself off, glanced at him, and blushed as much as Ruby. “Well, I mean…”

“She had chips on her skirt,” Cardin said, gesturing to the open bag in Russell’s lap. “I was just helping her dust them off.”

“Yes!” Weiss shouted. “Yes, that’s all, just some chips on my skirt.” She made a show of brushing off the skirt. “That’s all it was Ruby.”

Ruby had a sullen glower as she stared at Cardin that suggested she believed none of it. Cardin added, “What did you think I was going to grab her butt? I mean, she’s cute and all, but too flat for my tastes.”

Both Weiss and Ruby choked. Ruby stammered that she didn’t know what the hell was going on, while Weiss chided him for being so misogynistic.

Right as she was yelling, “My breasts are just fine the way they are, thank you very much,” The door opened again. Cardin turned, wondering who he’d have to explain this situation to, and felt his blood turn to ice.

Yang tossed her hair and gave Weiss a cold stare. She had Ruby’s missing cookies in one hand. “Do I even want to ask?”

Before either of the girls could say anything unwise, Cardin said, “I was just telling Ruby that I didn’t have any interest in Weiss. Too flat.”

Yang smirked as Ruby and Weiss both struggled to respond. “What about me, then?” She stretched up, letting her boobs press against her shirt. “Am I big enough for you?”

Ruby achieved an even deeper shade of scarlet and buried her face in her hands, while Weiss crushed a marker in her hand. Cardin knew all too well that a wrong answer here would cost him a broken nose. He looked back at his teammates. Russell was smiling and shoveling potato chips in his mouth, Sky watched in abject horror, glancing between him and the door as if calculating the velocity required escape the room before it would be spattered with blood, and Dove gave him a raised eyebrow through his Scroll.

This was no nightmare. Blake had killed him, and he had gone straight to hell.

“Honestly, I like them just fine. Problem is, I don’t think I’d survive touching them.”

Yang grinned. “Good answer.”

She set the cookies down, sat next to Russell and yanked the bag of chips out of his lap. Russell gave her a wary sidelong look, but he kept eating from his plate.

Blake came in moments after. She gave a small start when she saw Cardin, and she went to the other side of the room, sitting next to Dove. By this time, Weiss and Sky had inundated the white boards with enough writing to make Cardin’s legs itch.

“So, is this everyone?” he asked Weiss.

“No, we’re waiting for a few more. They should just be a minute.”

Yang set aside an empty bag of chips and grabbed a two-liter. “So, what are we learning, teach? Aerodynamics? I hear you’re an expert, given, you know.” She gestured towards her chest.

Weiss scowled, but she said calmly, “We are reviewing for the exams.”

“Gotcha. Not sure the docs are gonna find anything there, Weiss-cream, but it can’t hurt to check.”

It took Weiss a few moments to get the joke. This time, there was an edge of anger in her voice. “The school exams, Yang. Could we please stop talking about… that stuff, and start taking this seriously?”

“Fine, fine, we can put this to breast.”

Cardin wondered if he could use these shenanigans as a convenient excuse to leave. After all, he had already given Weiss the note. The thought had him out of his seat and at the door. Just as he was about to say his goodbyes, he opened the door and found Pyrrha Nikos on the other side.

“Oh, um, hello,” she said uncertainly. Her hair was combed, and she smelled of a shower, but there was a red tinge to her eyes. “Is Weiss here?”

Weiss waved at her from behind Cardin. “Yes, hello Pyrrha! I’m glad you could make it.”

Pyrrha gave Cardin an uneasy glance as she passed him. “I wasn’t expecting so many people here.”

“Well, I thought it would be nice to have everyone together to get ready for the finals. Since Sky does really well in class, I thought having him here would help us cover all the material.”

Cardin hid a smile at the perfect explanation of his presence. He sat back down, close to the door, and decided to spend the time studying his target.

Pyrrha looked back at him again, but the tension left her shoulders. “I see. Thank you for inviting me.”

“Of course. I noticed you were absent for a few days, and I thought you would appreciate some help.”

“That’s very kind of you. I hope you have a few extra chairs, I invited my teammates with me.” She looked down and nervously twirled strands of her hair between her fingers. “I hope you don’t mind.”

“Not at all. They told me they were coming, so I got extra chairs for them.”

Cardin did a quick count of the room’s seats. Ruby was still standing in the corner, Weiss and Sky were at their whiteboards, and Pyrrha sat in the middle of a three-seat gap between Blake and Yang.

That left exactly two seats for three teammates. Cardin groaned to himself, as he already knew which wouldn’t be coming.

The door slammed open, and Nora Valkyrie stormed in. There were leaves and twigs in her hair. “Hello!” she shouted in a cheery voice. The smile wavered when she saw Blake and died completely when she saw Cardin.

Cardin wondered what he had done to deserve this.

Ren stepped out from behind her. “Sorry we’re late. Nora thought she saw a squirrel in one of the trees.”

“It was spying on us!” Nora said. “It had a cute little pair of binoculars and everything!”

“Yes, very nice,” Weiss said. “Why don’t you take a seat, we have refreshments.”

With a grim smile on her face, Nora went towards Blake, but Ren dashed ahead of her and took that seat. Nora sat next to Yang, noticed the chips, cookies, and soda on the table, and raked everything towards her.

Ruby gave a start as Nora started tucking into the cookies. She swooped in with a flash of rose petals, swiped a carton and the milk, and stopped at the edge of the room. Glancing back and forth at the remaining seats, she eventually chose the one next to Cardin. Yang gave him a sidelong look with a dash of murderous red. Cardin buried his face in a book.

Weiss tapped the whiteboard with a marker. “Right, we have a few weeks before finals, but it never hurts to get a head start so we know where we stand. I think we should start with Grimm Studies, since that’s the most heavily weighted portion of our grade.” She saw the cover of the book Cardin held. “Excellent! Cardin, could you read the section on Manticores? That’s bound to be an essay question.”

Cardin felt the jaws of a trap closing around his leg. He made a show of looking at the index and flipping through pages. “I can’t find it,” he said.

“Here, give me that.” Weiss snatched the book out of his hands. Cardin gave a sigh of relief, but Weiss handed him the book, flipped to the page on Manticores.

“Why don’t you start with the combat patterns near the bottom? Port’s essays always focus on how to kill Grimm.”

Cardin felt himself getting light-headed as he struggled to breathe. “Shouldn’t we quiz everyone first? If everyone already knows the material, then we shouldn’t waste our time reading it.”

“Kind of hard to know something that won’t be covered until next week,” Yang pointed out.

Cardin swallowed and glanced at Blake. She was staring at him with a small smile on her face, and she gave him a shrug. He searched for help in his other teammates. Russell shook his head from behind a handful of chips, and Dove was engrossed with his Scroll. He stared at Sky, who looked nervously at Russell and spoke up.

“Shouldn’t we start with the earlier topics? It’s more likely that we forgot about those.”

“Professor Port’s not going to lecture on it anyways, so we might as well read it together,” Weiss said. “Cardin, if you would.”

Sweat ran down Cardin’s forehead, stinging his eyes. He leaned back and let the book lie on the table.

“I’m not in a reading mood today. Ruby, why don’t you do it?”

Yang scowled at him, and Weiss frowned, but Ruby nodded and took the book. Cardin felt his chest loosen up, and once again, he was able to breathe.

“Can Cardin not read?” Nora asked.

Cardin felt every pair of eyes in the room dart towards him. Blake hid a grin behind a hand, his teammates’ expressions had a mix of alarm and concern, and the rest stared in disbelief.

“Of course he can read,” Weiss said. “How else would he be able to do his homework?”

Blake looked tempted to speak out, but Nora beat her to it.

“He could have someone read for him, like one of his teammates.”

“We don’t,” Russell chimed in. “Cardin does his own reading.”

Cardin stared directly at Blake, daring her to say a word. The smile vanished, and she looked down at her own notes.

“Then prove it, Cardin” Nora said. “Read.” She started chanting the word and gesturing for the others around her to join in. Yang shrugged and followed suit, and once she started, Ruby nervously copied her. Russell shrugged and joined in, and Dove mouthed the word.

Cardin’s fingers trembled as he took the textbook from Ruby.

“If you want me to read that badly, then fine.” He cleared his throat, using the moment to scan the first line. He read in a loud, pompous voice, as if mocking Nora and the others while buying time to struggle through the other lines.

One paragraph. All he needed was one whole paragraph, and he could pass the book back to Ruby. His eyes slid down the page, hunting for an indent. Twelve lines. Of all the pages in the book, Weiss had to choose the one with the longest paragraph ever written in human history. He slowed down, enunciated every syllable, made grandiose gestures, and mimed hacking apart a Manticore wing by wing, then the hind limbs, as the book advised. Three lines. Four. His mouth caught up with his brain by the fifth line. Each word became a theatrical performance, each syllable a monologue, as his brain slogged through the quagmire of text. Six lines. Halfway there. He was getting annoyed stares from his classmates and a look of incredulity from Blake, but he was halfway there. Weiss looked ready to yank the book out of his hands, Russell stopped with a potato chip halfway to his mouth, and Blake stared with a sullen glower and crossed arms. The end of this sentence. If he made it to the end, and he could pass it to Ruby. Five more words. Four. Three.

The word ‘eviscerate’ tripped him.

His tongue twisted around the ‘vis’, repeating it in a loop. He tried again, starting the word over, but he lost his place in the paragraph. He had finished the word, but he was left dangling, speechless, at the broken-off end of the sentence. As the silence stretched out, everyone stared at him in shock and confusion. Russell dropped the chip and shook his head. Sky studied the floor. Dove stared at the Scroll, finger frozen over the screen.

Cardin slammed the book shut. “Excuse me, I just remembered something important.”

He walked out of the room and closed the door behind him. Once he was out of the library, he sprinted back to his dorm. He left the lights off, fumbled around for his mace, and sat on the bed with it in his lap.

The lock clicked open, and a knock came at the door. It opened slowly, and Russell poked his head inside.

“What happened?” Cardin asked from the darkness.

Russell sat across from him. “No one knew what to make of it, and the group went downhill from there. Sky and Weiss argued over what to study, and Nora and Ruby fought over the cookies.”

Cardin grunted and leaned back on his pillow.

“That was pretty good,” Russell said. “I thought you had it.”

“Well, I didn’t. Secret’s out now.” His grip tightened on his mace. “Nora will pay for this.”


	14. The Stray

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This week was a little less busy, fortunately. I helped my dad move some things on Monday, but aside from that, it’s been a typical week. I got time off this weekend, so I’m hoping to get another chapter of Last Sage done. I will likely get a raise soon, just have to pass a skill assessment. I already know I passed the written assessment, and if I can pass either the verbal or the hands-on, all I’d have to do is retest the one I fail, and I get my raise. If I fail both, well, it’s back to square one.

\----------

Beta: HybridAlabaster

Cardin had spent the entire day dreading the trickle of rumors through the school. He kept his ear to the ground, catching stray whispers from groups at lunch, peering at Scrolls as students texted each other. He had his teammates keeping tabs on JNPR and RWBY, watching who they talked with and when. Weiss wouldn’t say a word, and he doubted Ren would either. Blake would keep her mouth shut if she knew what was good for her, but he had Russell watching her just in case. Ruby would likely tell a teacher, Yang might if she was in a vindictive mood, and Nora would tell everyone in a five mile radius.

Except, they didn’t.

Days passed, and not a single word of his learning difficulties made it out of that study group. Initially, he had chalked it up to them not knowing what to make of his performance, but Blake had dashed that hypothesis in their most recent reading session.

Blake and Jaune had a second date, Pyrrha descended further into depression, Nora had taken to following him whenever possible and polishing her hammer with a menacing smile, Ren kept her distracted with an endless supply of pancakes from the school’s kitchens, Weiss met up with him on the rooftop again, she kept arguing with Yang, and Blake kept reading for him and teaching him how to dodge.

After a week, Cardin felt his hackles relax. He had called a stop to the constant surveillance of the study buddies, though he had his teammates continue the weekly sessions, and he shifted his attention to the Vytal Festival. Students from the four Kingdoms trickled in by boat and Bullhead. He and Sky gathered every scrap of paperwork that could be bribed and cajoled out of customs officials and Hunter regulators. Piles of data gathered on Sky’s Scroll for each team, from the weapons on their backs to the tactics they employed. School records, expenditures, medical history, each was another weapon in his arsenal.

As he pored over team BRNZ’s recorded matches, a knock came at the door. With a single tap on his Scroll, the data disappeared behind encryption and firewalls.

Weiss glanced past him at the empty dorm room and fixed him with a scowl. Without a word, she pushed past him, closed the door, and rounded on him.

“Did you know?” she asked. “About Blake?”

“Know what?” Cardin felt the floor tilt beneath him.

Weiss took a deep breath and stared up at him. Her eyebrows rose and fell, and her jaw worked silently as she tried to figure out what to say next.

“Never mind that.” She sat on Sky’s bed, straight as a bar of iron, and clenched her fists over her knees. “I just – I learned something, something about Blake I don’t entirely like. I thought, well, you must have known.”

“Supposing I did know something,” Cardin said slowly, “I would not be at liberty to say.”

It was as good as admitting he knew, but there was no point in denying it now.

“And supposing that you did know something really bad, something illegal, you would do nothing about it? You wouldn’t tell Ozpin, or the police?”

“Ozpin would already know,” Cardin said. He hid a smile as her eyes widened. “Someone would have had to fake her records.”

“So you do know.”

“Know what?”

Weiss scowled and threw her arms up at him. “How long?”

“Months.”

“Months,” Weiss repeated. “You kept this from everyone for months.”

“Kept what?”

Weiss stood and stalked over to him. She grabbed him by the collar and yanked, but Cardin remained seated on the bed. “I had a Faunus for a teammate for months and never knew. I thought I could trust her. I thought I knew her. Then we get in an argument over some stupid Faunus we ran into and I find out she was a member of the White Fang, she ran off, and now she’s gone.”

“She’s a member of the White Fang?” Cardin asked.

“You’re impossible right now, you know that? Ugh, fine, I don’t know why I bothered.”

Weiss slammed the door when she left. He peered through the peephole on the door before letting out a string of expletives. As he fumed over Blake’s disappearance, he crushed his pillow in his hands.

After taking a deep breath, he took out his Scroll. He spent ten minutes crafting a text, typing and deleting message after message, trying to cram as much subtext as possible into a single sentence. Once he had his masterpiece, he read it to himself, word by word, letting it tumble over his tongue, before sending it.

Blake never showed up that night.

The next afternoon, he kept an eye on Team RWBY. Blake was nowhere to be found. When Weiss went off to study at the library alone while Yang and Ruby went out into town, he followed Weiss and tapped her on the shoulder.

“What happened to Blake?” he asked.

“She ran away,” Weiss said. “She left yesterday and hadn’t come back. Yang and Ruby went to look for her, but I have better things to do.”

“Any idea where she went?”

Weiss frowned. “No, we don’t know. I don’t think she could have left Vale so soon, but that’s about it.”

Cardin shrugged, but every muscle in his body tensed up. He felt himself sweat, but he resisted the urge to wipe it away. “Guess you’ll be needing a new team member soon.”

“Yeah.” She scowled and said, “I hope the next one isn’t hiding a set of ears.”

“Blake’s a Faunus?”

Weiss gave an exasperated sigh and stomped off into the library. Cardin’s smile evaporated, replaced by a worried grimace as he ran off to a wooded corner of Beacon’s grounds. He called Blake. It went to voicemail. He tried twice more before she picked up.

“It’s over,” Blake said. “I’m not coming back.”

“Weiss didn’t hear it from me,” Cardin said.

“No, no she didn’t,” Blake agreed. “I slipped up. And now I’m gone.”

“Leave now, and I’ll have the police hot on your trail. Come back, and I can see about smoothing things over with Weiss.” He brought his voice to a harsh whisper that he knew would rasp on the other end. “Don’t forget that I’m still in need of a reading partner.”

The silence at the other end was broken by the deep, hollow sound of a freighter’s horn. Once it echoed into silence, Blake said, “Listening to you was a mistake I won’t make again. I don’t care anymore. I’m going to prove the White Fang aren’t behind the Dust robberies, and then I’m going home. Go find someone else.”

The line went dead. Another try went straight to her voicemail. He slumped back against a tree and stared down at his Scroll. Her words rolled around his mind, and the ship’s horn blared as background noise. In a sudden moment of inspiration, it all clicked into place. The Schnee freighter coming into docks this evening would make a juicy target for the White Fang.

His first instinct was to tell Yang, but he didn’t have her number, and she could be anywhere in Vale. What would he even say if he did? If he expressed too much interest in Blake, Yang might put the pieces together, and an angry Yang was the last thing he needed. He could try contacting the authorities, saying he got some insider advice or the like, but using political connections would draw too much attention. Using Ren? Too obvious. Talking with Weiss? Too risky.

In the end, all that was left was to go himself.

He looked down at his uniform, wondering what the odds were that he’d have to fight Blake and whether it would even be worth wearing armor. In the end, he strapped it on. As he packed his mace and some Fire Dust, he called Russell.

“I’m going out to that Schnee freighter pulling in. I want to see if they have any Gravity Dust they’re willing to part with. Want to meet me at the docks?”

“Can’t,” Russell said. “I’m with my mom.”

Cardin grinned. “Is she doing alright?”

“Just got done with another round of chemo. It’s getting better, but she’s not clear yet.”

“Want anything while I’m there?”

“Some Lightning Dust. I’m running low.” After a pause, Russell said, “Why don’t you see if Sky can go? You shouldn’t be wandering around alone.”

“Sky went back to his parents’, remember?”

“And Dove went to his dad’s place,” Russell said. There was a long pause on the other end. “Be careful.”

“I got my armor and I’m bringing my mace,” Cardin said. He pressed the button, and the chain unfurled with a soft whirring noise. “Nice job cleaning it, by the way.”

“Yeah, should be fine. Let me know if the chain feels a bit sticky, there might be a bit of that crud left.”

Cardin ran a finger along the metal links. They felt smooth and cold. “Nope, it’s perfect.”

“Great. Don’t get into any trouble.” A clatter came from the other end. “Oops, gotta go.”

Cardin strolled out of Beacon Academy, got a lift on one of the Bullheads stationed at the school’s entrance, and wound his way through the city. Day to day life flowed around him, people heading home from work, or going out for dinner, chatting with friends. He walked against the grain of human traffic, bumping shoulders and tripping over feet. He got a few scowls and curses, but they all started away when they saw the armor. The crowd thinned as he got closer to the docks, replaced by a leaner, quieter sort. The sky turned orange as the sun dipped below the rooftops, and amber light danced off the storefront windows.

He rounded a corner and found Ruby walking towards him, about twenty feet away. Next to her was a girl he had never seen before, a girl with a rigid posture, tight orange curls, and a gray skirt. He started towards them, hoping to bring Ruby with him to the docks, but Ruby pulled her companion by the arm and started in the other direction.

“I’m sure she’s this way,” he heard Ruby say as they rounded a corner.

With a shrug, Cardin went the other way, towards the docks. He went past the passenger docks, which housed the ferries and cruise liners, without a glance, and made for the freight docks further south along the river. A canal had been carved to handle the influx of traffic from the sea, and ships floated side by side in the water as they waited their turn at the unloading stations. There, giant cranes grabbed crates off the ships and loaded them onto the backs of flatbed trucks.

He could see the Schnee liner pulling into an unloading station towards the back end of the docks, well away from the thin trickle of pedestrian traffic in this part of the city. He strolled along an alleyway, watching workers in Atlesian uniforms haul crates and operate machinery. There were no guards.

He watched the rooftops for any sign of Blake or the White Fang, but as the sky darkened and the workers left the site, he saw neither of them.

Cardin glanced at the time on his Scroll. Another hour, and he’d have to rush back to Beacon before curfew. Not to mention, he’d have to stop at a Dust shop first. He checked his wallet and leafed through wads of lien. Dust prices were rising, but he could say they only had the basic elements on the freighter.

Just as he was about to turn around and seek out a Dust shop that hadn’t given Torchwick the five-finger discount on their entire inventory, he heard the whining of Bullheads. Three transport Bullheads swooped in from over the canal and hovered over the Schnee freighter. Faunus wearing Grimm masks dropped down from open doors, trailing cables, fastened them to crates of Dust, and hauled them up. One Bullhead touched down, and Roman Torchwick strolled out, smoking a cigar and swinging his cane.

A hook fell off one of the crates, and it dangled sideways in the air. Torchwick struck the responsible Faunus with his cane. “Are you trying to blow us to the fucking moon?” The White Fang member muttered something and reattached the cable while Torchwick stomped off.

Cardin nervously licked his lips and hid behind a dumpster. His brain raced through a list of options – calling the police, contacting his father, creeping away through the alleys. Before he could make up his mind, Blake dropped down out of thin air, right behind Torchwick, and placed her blade at his neck. She tore off her ribbon and asked the White Fang why they were working with a human criminal, but Torchwick laughed it off. Cardin watched, urging her on, hoping she’d have the spine to slit his throat. She didn’t. Her grip faltered, and Torchwick took advantage of the hesitation to shoot the ground and escape in the cloud of rubble.

White Fang members crowded around Blake, swinging at her with knives and clubs, but she wove through the attacks. Her strikes disarmed, but did no lasting damage, and any that lost their weapons simply used their fists.

Blake was cornered by two Dust trailers and a crowd of thugs. Just as she was about to be beaten down by sheer numbers, another Faunus, this one a blonde in a white coat with a monkey’s tail, dropped from a lamppost and swung his staff in a circle, toppling half the attackers. Blake took advantage of the opening to sprint past him and swing at Torchwick. He blocked her with a lazy swipe from his cane.

“Aww, does the kitty cat want to play?” he said with a cocky smile. “Why don’t we figure out how many lives you have?”

Blake leapt and darted at him, blades flashing as they struck at Torchwick, but he kept her back with the longer range of his club. He danced on his feet, whirling and sidestepping, letting Blake close in before jamming the butt of his cane at her face. She fell back as a copy took the hit, but Torchwick followed through with a swipe that caught her in the side of the face. With a cry, Blake fell against a crate. Torchwick aimed his weapon at her and fired, but Blake sprang up and over the crate, taking cover behind it. The round pinged off the crate’s metal surface, leaving a sizable dent.

“You sure you want to hide there?” Torchwick asked with his cane ready for another shot. “One more might set off the Dust.”

He waited, but she didn’t move. With a growl, Torchwick circled around the crate with his cane leveled at it. He paused and blinked when he had completed a full circle without seeing her.

Blake came at him from behind. As her blades jabbed at his back, Torchwick spun and hooked one of her arms with his cane. He brought the arm up and over her shoulder, twisting her around at a painful angle. Gambol Shroud fell from her fingers, and she hissed as he spun her around to face him.

“Ooh, looks like someone’s been a naughty kitty. No one was supposed to die tonight, but for you, I can make an exception.”

“You leave her alone!”

Blake’s friend roared and charged at Torchwick. His staff broke apart into a pair of nunchucks, and as they whirled, shotgun blasts fired from both ends. Torchwick flung Blake away and brought his cane up, forcing the first shots over his head.

“Hey, watch the hat, that’s worth more than you are.”

“Sounds like someone got robbed at the clothing store,” the Faunus said with a smirk.

“Yeah, and it wasn’t me kid.”

Torchwick and the Faunus spun around each other, frantically attacking and parrying. Rubbing her shoulder, Blake recovered her weapon and charged into the battle. Just as she was about to stab one of his legs, Torchwick caught her neck with his cane, spun around her, and pushed her into the other Faunus. As they fell together, the nunchuck-staff got tangled with Gambol Shroud. Both weapons fell in a useless heap on Blake and her companion.

The White Fang grunts gathered in a circle, weapons raised. Torchwick regarded them with a disdainful sneer as he poked Blake with his cane.

“What does a master criminal have to do to get some decent henchmen around here? First, Junior’s thugs get beaten up by a little girl, then you lot get tossed around by these idiots.” Torchwick took off his hat and inspected it. Cardin couldn’t see anything wrong from his distance, but Torchwick had a better view.

“You see this?” Torchwick asked, poking his finger through a hole in his hat. “Now I have to steal another one. I was thinking about tying you up and leaving you here, but I have a much better idea.” He turned to one of the Faunus. “Hey, Steve!”

“My name’s Mark, actually.”

“Don’t care. Do you have some masks that you could share with these two?”

“Why? They’re not members.”

Torchwick covered his face in disgust. “If we just leave two corpses here, it’s going to look like they tried to stop us and we killed them. If they’re wearing white masks, however, they were terrorists that got iced by their own kind. Capisce?”

“We don’t have any extra.”

“Then give them your own!”

“But what if someone sees our faces?”

Torchwick swung his cane and caught the Faunus in the gut. He toppled to the ground, wheezed, and curled up in a fetal position.

“You, Steve,” he said pointing at another Faunus. “Take his mask and yours. Slap them on the kids, slit their throats, and get in the Bullhead. We’re behind schedule as is, so get a move on.”

Steve took the masks and tied one over Blake’s face. Cardin sweated and clutched his mace as he watched everything unfold from the alley. He was trying to calculate whether he would have a better chance surviving a fight with Torchwick or failing to get rid of Pyrrha, but his brain was stuck. A dull ache throbbed between his eyes, and his legs burned with the urge to run.

Once Steve finished fastening the other mask, the Faunus drew his knife. He knelt next to Blake, pressed the knife against her throat, and muttered something that Cardin couldn’t hear.

Before he knew what was happening, Cardin had the entire dumpster raised over his head. His arms tingled like beehives, and he felt his chest tighten as Aura rushed out of him. With a heave, the dumpster went flying dozens of feet into the air. Steve looked up, saw the dumpster falling towards him, and scrambled out of the way. The dumpster fell ten feet short and bounced to a stop at Blake’s feet. Rotting broccoli stir-fry and egg-fried rice spilled over the two captives.

Torchwick and his two-dozen White Fang all looked at where the dumpster had come from. With a deep breath, Cardin strolled out of the alley, swinging his mace in imitation of Torchwick’s carefree style.

“Cardin?” Blake asked as she wiped teriyaki sauce out of her eyes. “What are you doing here?”

Torchwick looked back and forth between them. “Great, another one? How many stupid teenagers are there in the city?” He nodded to the nearest White Fang thugs and said, “Get him.”

Four Faunus sprinted towards him. His mace caved in the skull of the first one, and the second got a smashed ribcage. The other two hesitated, staring nervously at their dead comrades. Cardin ran forward and swung at a jaw. Blood spilled from the Faunus’ mouth, and two teeth flew onto the pavement. The fourth backed away. Cardin stalked after him, parried a frantic knife thrust, and head-butted him, cracking the mask. His mace slammed into the Faunus’ shoulder. Bone snapped. He howled as he slumped against a crate.

Torchwick took out another cigar, snapped open his lighter, and puffed until he got a flame going. None of the other White Fang grunts moved.

“Gotta say, kid, I like your style.” He blew out a puff of smoke and flicked some ashes towards Blake. “You’re not with those two, are you?”

“I’m just here for the cat,” Cardin said. The White Fang members bristled, but Torchwick smiled and raised an eyebrow at him. “Let me walk away with her, and you can get on with stealing all this Dust.”

“And the monkey?”

Cardin shrugged. “Do whatever you want with him, I don’t care.”

“Hey!” the monkey Faunus yelled. “I’m right here you know.”

Torchwick tapped his cane on the ground. “Tempting. What happens if I say no?” He pointed the cane at Cardin, and a scope sprang up at the end. “Do you think you can win against me?”

“No, but I can hold out for five minutes.” Cardin took out his Scroll and held it up for Torchwick. “Just long enough for the police to get here.”

Torchwick snorted. “I paid off the phone operator. They’ll just blow you off.”

“Then it’s a good thing I have the commissioner’s phone number.”

The cigar hung limply at Torchwick’s lips as he stared at Cardin. “What is your name?”

Cardin had the sudden sense that he had just stepped into the middle of a busy street. Any step he could take might get him flattened under a set of wheels. But before he could say anything, Torchwick’s eyes widened, and he gave Cardin a huge grin.

“The kitty said your name. Cardin, wasn’t it? Cardin Winchester.” He turned towards the White Fang around him. “Hey, listen up. We just hit the jackpot. Tie up those two and load up some more Dust. I’ll deal with him.”

Cardin’s fingers flew on his Scroll, but Torchwick shot it out of his hands. It broke into pieces as it clattered across the pavement.

“Should’ve had him on speed dial,” Torchwick said. “Now what?”

Cardin looked around him. The jumble of crates and shipping equipment left by the White Fang gave him no room to use his chain. Instead, he ran behind a crate and cracked it open with his mace. Torchwick cursed and ran after him, but Cardin had enough time to scoop a handful of yellow powder into the Dust capsule in his mace. The weapon quivered in his grip. He gave it an experimental swing as Torchwick closed the gap between them, and the head rocketed towards Torchwick’s chest. He blocked it with his cane, but the blow passed through his guard and gouged out a chunk of his aura.

Cardin kept Torchwick on the back foot with swipe after swipe, his mace moving too fast for his eyes to track, but his swings went wide, the mace pulled him into awkward positions. His feet scrambled to keep up.

Torchwick smashed an empty wooden crate and scattered the planks across the ground. Cardin stumbled over the wooden obstacles and fell forward. The thief swung at his shoulders, but Cardin flung his mace at the ground. Concrete cracked, and Cardin was flung back by the recoil of the blow. The cane whistled through the air an inch from his nose.

The mace died in his hands, growing cold and heavy as it consumed the last of the Lightning Dust. He fumbled for the Fire Dust in his pocket, but Torchwick pressed close, hammering him with blow after blow. His armor blocked most of it, but he felt his Aura slipping away piece by piece. Gritting his teeth, he activated his Semblance. The mace felt light as a feather in his hands, but even with the added speed behind his blows, Torchwick parried them and pressed closer into his guard. The master thief barraged him with the butt of the cane, his feet, his fists. He spat out the cigar and jabbed it at Cardin’s eyes.

Cardin’s back hit a shipping crate. Torchwick’s cane struck at him from every angle. The few Cardin dodged left dents in the metal behind him, and the rest carved his Aura like dried wood. By the time Cardin slipped back into open ground, he was panting hard and out of Aura. One knee stung, and that leg refused to straighten.

“Just give it up already,” Torchwick drawled as he gestured with his cane. He glanced down at his watch. “Well, looks like it was about eight minutes. Guess you were right.” The cigar fell to the ground, and Torchwick crushed it with the end of his cane. “Too bad you didn’t make that phone call.”

Cardin stifled a groan as he took a deep breath. His chest and arms felt as though he let the agility machine toss him around all day, and his legs burned with the effort to keep him on his feet. His chuckle came out hoarse and dry, and each word hurt his throat.

“Who said I didn’t?”

Torchwick rolled his eyes. “Really, you’re going for the bluff? Come on, do you think I was born yesterday?”

Another dumpster went sailing through the air. Torchwick had to duck and scramble to avoid getting hit by it.

“Hey!” Yang shouted from above them. “The circus is that way!”

Both of them turned towards the shout. Cardin didn’t care if she’d break his nose afterwards. He’d kiss her for such beautiful timing.

Torchwick muttered a curse and pointed his cane at her. “These kids keep coming out of the woodwork. Neo! Keep her busy, and try not to get blood on my coat.”

He couldn’t see very clearly, but he heard Yang fighting. From all the grunting and shouting, it sounded like she was losing. Torchwick turned back to him and straightened his coat.

“Right, where was I?”

“You were about to kidnap me?”

Torchwick smiled. “Ah, that’s it! Usually, someone in your situation would say something stupid like ‘you were going to let me go’ but you have the guts to be honest. Good for you. Your prize is a first class seat on the brand new Torchwick Airlines, your one-way trip to being my meal ticket.”

Cardin knew that Yang wouldn’t come alone. Ruby was out there, and she wasn’t going to be very far behind. “Aren’t you going to at least tell me why you’re stealing all this Dust? I thought you knew better than to piss off the Dukes.”

Torchwick shrugged. “I’m not really into the whole stereotypical villain speech schtick. Besides, I can tell you’re stalling. Now let’s go, or am I going to have to break your legs first?”

“Hey, Torchwick!”

This shout came from behind him, but he recognized Ruby’s voice. Torchwick looked up and ground his teeth.

“Nope, I am not doing this tonight.” He took a radio out of his pocket. Cardin tried to slap it away with his mace, but Torchwick swept the blow aside and knocked him on the head. Cardin saw stars as he staggered to the ground.

“Hawk one, shoot the girl. No, not the yellow one you imbecile, the red one. I don’t care about the casualties, just do it now!”

A Bullhead swooped down, and the barrels of its machine guns started spinning. A high-pitched crackling sound came from behind him, and a green laser split the night sky, along with the Bullhead. Flaming pieces of scrap tumbled onto the loading dock, clattering off metal crates and setting off small bangs anywhere they touched piles of stray Dust.

Torchwick examined the burning wreckage and looked at Cardin. With a sigh, the thief turned around, ran through the docks, and leapt onto a Bullhead. The other Bullheads veered away and disappeared in the rising smoke.

Cardin kept an arm over his mouth, coughing on the smoke, as he stumbled through the wreckage. He found Blake and the other Faunus tied to a lamp post, both struggling to wriggle free of the rope as the fires crept closer. Even through his ash-stained sleeve, he could smell the slime coating them.

He found Gambol Shroud tossed to the side a few feet away. He picked it up, dragging the tangled staff with it, and cut the rope. Blake staggered to her feet and rubbed at her chafed arms.

“Why are you here?” she asked.

“You’re really asking this now?” the Faunus said. “This whole place is burning around us!”

“The monkey’s right,” Cardin said. “Let’s go, your team’s waiting.”

He offered Blake a shoulder, but she walked past him. The other Faunus tried to lean on him, but Cardin withdrew and went towards the alleys. He watched just long enough to see Yang and Ruby rush up to her before slipping off to a Dust shop.


	15. Black and White

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This week’s been a rough one. Good news is, I got that raise. I’m not sure how I passed the verbal assessment, considering that my answer to a fifth of the questions was “I don’t know what that acronym stands for”. Kinda hard to remember those things when you were trained on it months ago and you never handle any of that stuff. Still, I’ll take the money and run. Bad news is, I’ve been working a lot of overtime this week. I’ve had two twelve-hour days, one for the hands-on assessment, another because the third shift technicians called in and I volunteered to cover. At least yesterday they took pity on me and let me leave four hours early.
> 
> So, first off, my beta never got a chance to get back to me on this chapter. That’s my fault – I was a few days behind on getting them this chapter. I’m back on schedule with the first draft, so hopefully it won’t be a problem in the future. I’m still working on the Pokemon fanfic Last Sage, but that’s been slow going. I hope to have the next chapter ready this weekend, but that depends on how much I’m doing for Mother’s day.
> 
> I decided to give the whole omake thing a shot, since one of the scenes in this chapter gave me a really good idea. I also have an idea for the next chapter, so who knows, I may start doing them each chapter for funsies. Let me know what you think of this one.

\----------

The moment Ozpin got a call from a police officer that three of his students were at the White Fang raid on the docks, he called up a Bullhead pilot, gathered up his chess set, and went to the police station. He spoke with the chief and asked for a cup of coffee and a private room to speak with Blake. The interrogation room the chief gave him would hardly be private, not with all the ducal spies, but he fixed that with a ward around the room, woven with the energy stored in his cane.

An officer escorted Blake into the room. Her clothes were slimy and stained, blood ran from a split lip, and she reeked of soot and bad takeout. She didn’t take her eyes off him as she sat down.

The officer also had an empty mug and a whole pitcher of coffee. He left both next to the Headmaster, gave him a curt bow, and closed the door as he left.

Ozpin poured himself a mug and brought out the chess set. He set Blake up with the black pieces, moved his pawn to E4, and gestured for her to make the a move. She picked up the queen and set it in the middle of the board.

“You don’t know how to play, do you?” When Blake shook her head, he said, “Pity,” and put the pieces back in order. He made a move for her, pawn to E5.

“Under better circumstances, Blake Belladonna, I would let you keep your secrets.” Blake flinched when he emphasized her last name. “Yes, I know who you are, and more importantly, your parents. It is fortunate that Cardin hasn’t figured that out yet.”

Blake glanced at the door. “You know.”

“About your past, or what Cardin has been doing?” He took a sip of coffee and grimaced at the bitter, chalky taste of the instant mix. “Yes.”

“Then why let him get away with it?”

Ozpin made his move, pawn to F4. “In a game of chess, taking pieces is important, but if you move too many pieces out of formation, you leave your king exposed.” With a flick of his finger, he brushed aside the pawn he had just exposed and moved Blake’s in its place. “Now, I could put my light-square bishop here,” he said, pointing at C4, “But that would let you attack with your queen, right here.” He moved his finger to H4. “The wiser move is to play this knight like so.” He moved a knight in front of Blake’s pawn. “Now the queen can no longer move there safely, and that pawn can move no further.”

Blake watched the board with a frown. “Did you call me here just to play games?”

“No, but if anyone asks questions about why we haven’t been talking for fifteen minutes straight, I need a good excuse.” He saw the questions rise in Blake’s thoughts, but he cut them off. “I have been wondering since you took your practical exam whether or not I should help you. If anyone discovered that I had helped conceal a White Fang terrorist, and a Belladonna at that, it would cost me my job, you your freedom, and Menagerie its rights. Do you understand that?”

He kept a stern expression as Blake nodded.

“Good. Thus far, you had avoided drawing attention to yourself, aside from the slip-up with Cardin. Luckily for us, he needs you too much to let you come to any harm, the docks being a case in point.”

Blake’s brow furrowed, and her eyes drifted to the pieces. “That changed, didn’t it?”

“Unfortunately, yes.” Ozpin studied the board and played G5 for Blake. G4 on the next turn would force the knight away and let her queen put him in check. “You had been seen without your ribbon, in the company of a foreign Faunus, talking to the White Fang. Naturally, the Dukes and anyone tied to them will wish to take advantage of this.”

While he could play H4 and open up his rook, he could also lure out the queen. After some thought, he played NC3, developing the queenside knight. Pawn G4 was the natural response, and he saved his knight with E5.

“What can I do?”

The queen went to H4. Check. “You could take the first ship out of here, go home to Menagerie, and keep quiet about everything that had happened here.”

Blake scowled, and her ears drooped.

“Or, you could become one my agents.”

Pawn to G3, blocking the check and putting pressure on the black queen.

“An agent? What are you, some kind of spymaster?”

Ozpin gave a dry chuckle and let her capture G3 with the H4 pawn. “In Vale, every politician is a spymaster. There isn’t a clerk, accountant, officer, or analyst that doesn’t report to at least two Dukes. People rise or fall by the information they receive.”

White queen to G4, attacking the opposing queen. With the Knight on E5, she couldn’t safely take it. Pawn to G2 was the logical way to proceed.

“What do you want me to do?”

Queen captures on H4. He set the black queen next to his side of the board.

“First, keep working for Cardin. The more invested he is in keeping you, the more he will have to defend you should your secret get out. Second, I will have you gather intelligence on the White Fang for the police. If anyone’s going to believe that you’re a double-agent, you’re going to have to act like one. And third, stay out of trouble.” He gave her his best stern principal stare and waited until she drooped in her chair. “This incident cannot happen again. Are we clear on that?”

“Yes sir.”

“Good.” He raised the cup of coffee and watched the dregs swirl at the bottom before gulping them down. “Now that we’ve got that out of the way, it’s time to let the others hear our conversation. Act normal and speak as little as possible.”

Blake nodded. Ozpin tapped his cane on the floor, and a green shimmer ran over the walls. Blake watched the veil fall with wide eyes, but she said nothing.

“I think that’s enough chess for one night,” Ozpin said. “I imagine you are tired after such a long day.”

She was about to speak, but Ozpin silenced her with a raised hand. “It was unfortunate that your cover was blown. I had hoped that you could aid us undetected from Beacon, but considering what had happened, we have no choice but to send you back to Menagerie. You will be safer there.”

Ozpin gestured for her to speak. Blake’s eyes begged for guidance, but he stayed silent and waited.

Blake lipped her lips, probing the cut with her tongue. “I can still help,” she said. “They don’t check everyone going into the meetings for new recruits. We might learn what they are after if I attend one of them.”

“I could have an officer go in disguise. If you could provide us with a time and place, we can take care of the rest.”

“The meetings are held in dark warehouses, where only Faunus can see. Anyone who isn’t a Faunus will be caught right away.”

“There are Faunus officers that could do the job.”

Blake faltered, which is what Ozpin had wanted. He let her mouth work silently for a moment before stepping in.

“However, those officers are already busy with their own assignments. I suppose, if you are willing to continue to help us despite the danger you put yourself in, then I could make you an official part of the investigation.”

“I would appreciate it,” she said. “I – I want to do what’s best for everyone.”

“You will have your chance.” He took a Scroll out of his pocket, one not unlike the ones Beacon gave its students at the start of each year. “You’ll find the password on a slip of paper in the battery pack. Memorize it and destroy the note. Allowing anyone else to access the contents of that Scroll would qualify as an act of treason and is punishable with up to thirty years in jail. Go ahead and turn it on.”

Blake eagerly tapped the Scroll to life. Ozpin frowned and wondered if he had erred in trusting her to be cautious.

“You can explore the functions of this Scroll later, but there are a few I want you to know. The first are the investigation archives.” He pointed through the Scroll at an icon of a manila folder on the screen. “Most of them are redacted, but you have full access to anything related to the White Fang. If you believe you need other information, you’ll have to file a request. Speaking of, this is the report window.” He pointed at another icon, this one with a green arrow pointing at a mailbox. “There’s a list of forms you may submit, from investigation results to equipment requisitions. If you need anything or have anything to report, that’s where it goes.”

“Equipment requisitions?” Blake asked.

“Phone taps, dust vials, cameras, ammunition, vehicles, whatever you need. Be sure to explain very clearly why you want it. They’re very stingy over in the logistics department. Packages will arrive at a drop location that will be sent to that Scroll, most likely a teacher’s office.”

Ozpin poured himself another mug. “This one here,” he said, pointing at an icon showing a radar screen, “Shows active dispatch calls and officer movements. Criminal activities show up as red dots, and officers as blue. The map refreshes itself as emergency operators update it.”

Blake clicked the icon. The docks showed up as a dull red splotch, with pinpricks of blue surrounding it.

“What’s this green one?”

Off to the side of the docks, there was a green dot accompanied by a pair of blues. “A Huntsman, probably Professor Goodwitch. Zoom it in, it will provide more details.”

As she zoomed closer to the green dot, Glynda’s scowling face appeared on the screen. He sighed to himself and drank some more coffee. It had gone lukewarm, but he drained the mug anyways.

“I would assign you a Huntsman to watch over you, but all mine are busy in the field at the moment. I am counting on you to keep yourself safe. Use your best judgement, and always make sure you have a way out.”

“I will, Headmaster.”

“Good. Go get some sleep.”

The way she stared hungrily at the Scroll as she closed it up suggested she would not be sleeping for the next week. The officer, who was standing just outside the door, no doubt texting every word onto his Scroll, escorted Blake out of the police station.

Ozpin tipped the pitcher again, but all that came out was a thick black sludge that even he wouldn’t touch. With a sigh, he set the fouled mug aside and turned his attention to the game. With pawn captures H1, his rook was gone, and the black queen was back. Trapped, but back, and pinning his light-square bishop. And sure, he could move his queen up to pin the F7 pawn and put that E5 knight to work, but without taking the time to castle, the black queen would remain a thorn in his side.

He picked up the white queen. Pyrrha had seemed such a promising candidate, a gift from the Gods, dedicated, driven, skilled in combat, but Cardin had proven her too brittle, too emotionally unstable. That left him with startlingly few options. There were some promising older students, but they had all grown independent, ready to strike out on their own. None had gravitated to him like Summer or Qrow. Of the newer students, his best was Jacques Shnee’s daughter, but Weiss’ inheritance made her too much a wild card. Yang was too headstrong and reckless, Nora even more so, Blake too risky and impulsive to boot. Ruby, while tempting, was too young. Perhaps Pyrrha could be salvaged, if he stopped Cardin and allowed the situation to defuse itself.

A knock came at the door, and the chief opened it. “Ozpin, are you done in here?”

He gave a start and returned the white queen. “Oh, yes, I was just musing on this game. Quite an interesting line we had started, but she was too tired to finish.”

The chief peered at the board. “Looks like she has you beat,” he said, pointing at the queen.

He pushed his own forward one space. “Looks can be deceiving. Would you care to pick up the game?”

The chief glanced at his watch. “I better get some sleep,” he said. “Torchwick’s been having me and the boys running our legs off.”

Ozpin affected a bemused chuckle and rose from his seat. “I can quite imagine. Have a good night, and good luck catching him.”

As he had feared, Glynda was waiting for him outside his office. She didn’t say a word as they walked in together, but once the door was closed, she fixed him with her most heated scowl and slapped her baton on the table.

“Care to explain why three of our students fought a wanted criminal?”

Ozpin sat down and straightened his coat. “Four, actually.”

Glynda pursed her lips. “Well, I suppose if you’re counting Sun, then yes, it would be four.”

“We’re counting students from other academies?” Ozpin asked with a smile. “That would bring it up to six.”

She paused and tried to process what he had just said. With a press of a button on his side of the desk, a built-in coffee maker hummed and poured him a mug. He took it and sipped while he waited for Glynda’s brain to reboot. Compared to the police swill, his freshly ground, perfectly steeped blend was the closest thing he had to happiness.

Glynda shook herself and slapped her hands on his desk. “Nope, we’re not playing that game. Tell me what they were doing at the docks.”

“Stopping the White Fang, I suppose.” He waited for Glynda’s anger to reach max capacity, marked by the flushing of her face and the pained wail of leather in her hand before adding, “Not my doing, I assure you. I was just as surprised as you were, and I have made it plain to all of them that they are not to act as vigilantes in the future.”

The wordplay seemed to have slipped past Glynda. She cleared her throat, nodded, and told him that was acceptable. Once she was gone, Ozpin set the pieces on his desk, each move replicated from his game with Blake. While he was studying the layout, a message popped up on his Scroll. “Queen has pawns.”

He sent Qrow a request to learn more, tapped the black queen and said, “Your move.”

***

Cinder watched as a ragged, bloodied band of White Fang unloaded the Bullheads. Though the monstrous machines had room for twenty crates apiece, Torchwick came back with half that between them. Emerald and Mercury trailed behind her, both of them exchanging scowls and leering at each other when they thought she wouldn’t notice.

She strolled down the stairs and said, “How very disappointing, Roman.”

Torchwick gave a start and turned towards her. The White Fang grunts around him suddenly found other crates to move and hustled away.

“I’m disappointed too. If your White Fang contact had been kind enough to send along some of his better men, we could’ve gotten away with the whole cargo.”

“This was supposed to be an easy heist. How did you fail to steal an unwatched cargo with the police paid off?”

Torchwick reached for his cane, but he glanced at her and placed both palms on the table. “Well, first it was a cat and a monkey, then Cardin Winchester, then a crazy blonde–”

“The Duke’s son?”

“The one and only.” Torchwick took a lighter out of his jacket pocket, lit himself a cigar, and drew a long, deep breath. “I almost had him too, but he had backup.”

“And what was he doing at those docks?”

“He said he was after the cat,” Torchwick said. When Cinder raised an eyebrow, he clarified, “The cat Faunus that jumped me. She was one of those ‘White Fang are supposed to be better than this’ sorts of people. Had a blade to my throat, but she didn’t have the guts to use it.”

“Who is this cat Faunus?”

“Hell if I know. Black hair, yellow eyes, used two blades tied together with a rope, mechashift and all that.”

Cinder saw a Faunus with glasses watching. He looked away and walked off towards the Bullhead, but Cinder threw a ball of fire in front of him. It crackled and hissed on the concrete floor.

“You. Who was the Faunus Torchwick is talking about?”

The Faunus swallowed and looked at his feet. “I don’t know.”

Cinder let her left hand heat up and grabbed the Faunus’ wrist. He gasped and froze up as she burned his skin.

“Are you sure you don’t know?” she asked.

The Faunus glanced back at his comrades and reached for his weapon, but Emerald plucked it from his belt. Mercury stood on the other side of him, cracking his knuckles and grinning at him.

“She was Blake Belladonna,” he said through gritted teeth. “Ghira’s daughter. She was one of us, and close to Adam, but she ran away after the last heist we did.”

Cinder let go of his wrist. The skin was already turning an angry red, and blisters rose in pasty mounds.

“That wasn’t so hard, was it? Now get out of my sight.”

The Faunus scurried away, and the others vanished. Torchwick pulled himself a metal chair and sat with his feet propped up on the table.

“So what if we didn’t get all the Dust at the shipyard. There’ll be plenty more to steal from at the shops. I already have men scoping out the security upgrades.”

“No need for that. We’re done with Dust.”

Torchwick blinked. “Okay then, what are we doing?”

Cinder nodded to Emerald. She handed Torchwick a Scroll, one that had a set of coordinates, train schematics, access codes to Mount Glenn’s old security networks, and an instruction manual for Atlesian Paladins. When she turned, Emerald slid a hand into Torchwick’s pocket and took a lighter. He didn’t even blink as she waved it past his face.

“Move all the Dust to this location and load it on the trains. You’ll find some fun toys there for the White Fang.”

Torchwick examined the Scroll. “Oh, fun, a camping trip in a cave full of Grimm and corpses with a bunch of fanatic Faunus. Should I bring some marshmallows?”

“If it’ll make you happy. I trust that you will comply with all the instructions you have been given?”

“Sure. If I survive all the Grimm and exploding Dust, I’d be happy to spend a little vacation onboard one of little Jimmy’s cruise liners.”

“The Grimm won’t trouble you. I have seen to that.”

Torchwick rolled his eyes. “Yeah, and you got them to set up a Jacuzzi for me. I’d really like to know how you’re so confident the Grimm will leave me alone. Even Neo can’t kill all the Grimm in that deathtrap.”

He was trying very hard not to look at her, but Cinder could see the cold calculation in his eyes as clearly as the glow of his lit cigar.

“With the negativity of an entire city, they’re hardly going to notice a couple dozen in the tunnels.”

“That’s not going to stop them from ripping the White Fang apart if they stumble into them.”

“Do you really care if that happens?”

Torchwick glanced around him. The White Fang grunts were still nowhere to be seen.

“Honestly, after the day I’ve had, I’d love nothing better than to watch Neo slit their throats and have a tea party with their corpses. That said, I’d rather not have to load all that Dust myself.”

“Then ask the Grimm to help you.”

“Ha ha, very funny.” Torchwick smothered the cigar on the surface of the table, leaving a sooty smear. “Can I at least get some of their better muscle? Armed teenagers seem to follow me wherever I go.”

“I’ll talk to Adam.” She turned around. Emerald and Mercury walked ahead of her, up the stairs, and held the warehouse door open for her. “Oh, and Roman?”

“Yes?”

“I heard that my agents had to clean up your little mess. If I tell you to make sure someone doesn’t talk, you make it happen. Got that?”

“What, you mean the librarian, or whatever? I had that under control.”

“Two packed bags and a ticket to Vacuo said otherwise,” Emerald said from upstairs.

“I had arranged for him to go conveniently missing on that ship after he settled his affairs. Killing him in his own shop isn’t exactly subtle.”

“Roman has a point,” Cinder said. “Next time you have any concerns, come to me first. Don’t act on your own.”

Emerald looked as though she had been slapped. “Yes Cinder. I’m sorry I disappointed you.”

“As long as you learned your lesson.”

Cinder climbed the stairs and went through the door. Mercury followed after, but Emerald lingered inside the warehouse. She peered past her, at Torchwick, who had taken out another cigar and was looking around his jacket for his lighter. Emerald took it out of her pocket, lit it for him to see, and stuck his tongue out at him. Emerald flinched when she saw Cinder was looking.

“I was just–”

“It matters not, Emerald,” she said once they were outside. “We won’t be dealing with him again.”

Mercury glanced back at the warehouse. “You mean–”

“Once Torchwick has done his part, I will have no further need for him, and he is too likely to turn on me. If Ironwood won’t execute him, I have other arrangements made.”

“And what about me?” Mercury raised an eyebrow. “Do you have arrangements made for when I’m no longer useful?”

“None yet,” Cinder said. “Keep being useful, and I will keep neglecting to make those arrangements.”

“Fair enough.”

Emerald glared at Mercury as though she would very much like to make arrangements herself. As much as the prospect of watching Emerald slit Mercury’s throat right here and now appealed to Cinder, his name was on the paperwork Headmaster Lionheart had made.

“So, what now?” Emerald asked.

“Now? We go to school.”

They had gotten changed into the Haven school uniforms at one of their safe houses and collected their student Scrolls. The Bullhead pilot only glanced at their transfer paperwork before taking them right to Beacon’s grounds. Cinder strolled across the cobblestone paths, basking in the thrill of walking into her enemy’s headquarters undetected. She could feel the gnawing hunger in her left arm, the emptiness, the cold, burning ache like frostbite down to the bone.

Cinder walked into one of the dorm buildings. The halls, this late at night, were empty, but muffled chatter emanated from each door along the length of the hall. With a gesture, Emerald and Mercury took the lead, leaning against doorways and capturing snippets of conversation.

One of the doors ahead opened. Emerald and Mercury sprang up, just in time for a short, dark-haired girl with a red cloak to run smack into them. She fell to the floor, apologized profusely, took Emerald’s hand to stand up, dusted herself off, and apologized some more.

“Are you new?” she asked.

Cinder thought she recognized her. She stepped forward for a closer look and said, “Visiting from Haven, actually.”

The hunger in her arm vanished. It was a sudden, unnerving quietness that made the hair rise on her neck. She could feel the Grimm embedded in her flesh writhe underneath the girl’s silver-eyed stare.

The girl looked at her for a moment, as if struggling to remember something, but it vanished in a bubble of enthusiasm as she gave directions to the exchange student dorms.

“Thanks,” Cinder said as she walked past her. “Maybe I’ll see you around.” A thought occurred to her as she started down the hall. “One moment. Could you tell me where Cardin’s room is?”

“Cardin? Third floor. Why, do you know him?”

“We met at a dinner party a few weeks back. I was hoping to speak with him again, but I don’t have his number.”

“Well, I could show you to his room right now, if you would like.”

“No, it’s fine. I can find him some other time.”

By the time Cinder arrived at their dorm room, in a building on the other side of campus, Mercury and Emerald had already combed the room for bugs and wiretaps, sealed up the vents, and taped down the blinds.

“What now, Cinder?” Emerald asked from her bed.

Cinder took one of the empty beds and touched her left arm. The hunger was back now, but nervous, jittery, shot through with static tingles.

“Now?” Cinder chuckled. “Now we are students. We should learn everything we can.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Omake: Tea Party
> 
> Cinder smelled the blood before she opened the warehouse door. A bunch of tables were pushed together in a wide circle. Most of the seats were occupied by unmasked Faunus with their throats slit. 
> 
> At the far end of the circle, Neo and Torchwick drank from porcelain tea cups. A Faunus wearing glasses had his chest, neck, and legs tied to a chair between them, but his arms were left free. He had a cup sitting in front of him as well.
> 
> “Hello Cinder!” Torchwick called from his seat. His face was flushed, and his hat was askew. “You’re just in time for the tea party!”
> 
> Neo motioned towards the three empty seats, each with its own teacup. The little girl looked perfectly sober as she drained her mug. Cinder stepped through an inch-deep puddle of congealing blood and sat next to Roman. From her seat, despite the overpowering smell of blood in the air, she could tell that the Faunus had soiled himself. His face was pale as grave-worms and sweat poured down his face.
> 
> “Why did you kill all of Adam’s men?” she asked.
> 
> “They were useless, all of them.” Torchwick gestured with his cup and sloshed its contents on the table. The liquid was clear and smelled strongly of alcohol. “So, after they unloaded the cargo, Neo and I decided to invite them to a little party. Isn’t that right, Mark?”
> 
> The Faunus that Torchwick elbowed in the side flinched at the touch. He licked his lips, glanced back and forth between the two seats next to him, and said, “That’s right. We’re all useless.”
> 
> “See?” Torchwick asked as he poured himself more whiskey. The cup overflowed, and when Torchwick brought it to his lips, as much got on his coat as down his throat. “Have some tea, it’s the best.”
> 
> Cinder held out her cup, and Torchwick poured for her, just enough to fill it halfway. Cinder took a sip and nearly gagged on the alcohol.
> 
> “Now, you came to discuss business, right?” Torchwick’s words were slurred, and his head wobbled on his shoulders. “I got some men out looking for more Dust. You want that, right?”
> 
> “We can discuss it later. I have some other business to attend to. For now, I will let you enjoy your tea party.”
> 
> “Suit yourself.” Torchwick got out a cigar and a lighter. After a few clumsy attempts, he got the cigar lit, but it slipped out of his mouth and landed on the table. The smoldering end landed in a puddle of alcohol, and the table caught on fire. The Faunus panicked and scooted his chair away as the fire spread.
> 
> Cinder kicked her shoes against the pavement, spattering it with blood. As the door closed, she could hear the Faunus screaming and Torchwick laughing maniacally.
> 
> “Is there anyone else in this city I can use?” Cinder asked Mercury. 
> 
> Mercury shook his head. “My old man said Torchwick was the best. A bit crazy, but the best.” After a moment, he added, “They were drinking buddies.”
> 
> Cinder looked back at the warehouse. Smoke was starting to rise through the windows. 
> 
> “I suppose it doesn’t matter. He’ll be dead soon anyways.


	16. The Not-So-Best Day Ever

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This week was better than the last week, and luckily, it’ll be a while before I have to work another weekend. Normally, I work every other weekend, but thanks to Memorial Day, the schedule got shuffled around, and an extra weekend off was given.
> 
> Aside from that, not much to tell. It’s been a slow week, and I’ve been trying to take advantage of it.
> 
> Also, another omake this week. I apologize in advance for it.

**\----------**

Beta: HybridAlabaster

 

When Cardin wondered why they had waited until Professor Goodwitch’s combat class in the afternoon to introduce the exchange students, he had concluded that it was probably out of fear for the impression Oobleck, or Gods forbid, Port, would leave on them. As it was, the introductions were ruined by the oscillating equipment in the background that Glynda couldn’t turn off. She had to talk over the incessant whining and whirring of motors and gears as she introduced the foreign teams one by one.

“And for our Haven Academy transfer students, first, I would like to introduce Team SSSN, led by Sun Wukong.”

The monkey tail behind Sun flopped side to side and slipped across Professor Goodwitch’s breasts. Sun turned around and ran a hand through his hair. “Sorry Professor, it has a mind of its own.”

“Do that again, and I will have you in detention for the duration of your time with us,” Glynda said coldly. “And I shall have a word with Headmaster Lionheart to ensure it follows you home. Is that clear?”

The temperature in the room dropped by ten degrees, but the shit-eating grin on Sun’s face didn’t even twitch. “I understand Professor, and I apologize for my tail’s behavior. I won’t let it happen again.”

One of Sun’s teammates cuffed him on the back of the head as they sat down. Another team took the stage, this one only having three members. It was the woman in the back that caught Cardin’s attention. The Haven school uniform seemed to deflect attention away from her charms, flattening the bosom, covering her thighs and shoulders, its deep, rich black fabric making her hair appear a dull dark brown by comparison while the snow-white undershirt gave her skin a fleshy, pink hue, yet her lustrous orange eyes and controlled composure were unmistakable.

“And here is Team CMEN, led by Cinder Fall,” Professor Goodwitch said. She glanced down at a clipboard. “I am informed that one of their members, Neo Poltan, was delayed by an unexpected illness. She will arrive once she is well enough to travel.”

Cinder’s two teammates seated themselves off to the side of the classroom, but Cinder lingered on the stage, scanning the crowd. Their eyes met. She gave him a soft smile as she approached him and sat in the empty seat behind him.

“I was hoping to find you here,” she said in a low whisper.

Cardin didn’t turn around. He took out his Scroll and pretended to read it while he asked, “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

Cinder chuckled. It was a warm, rich sound that tickled his ears. “Does it have to be something? Couldn’t I simply want to talk to you?”

“Nobody in the company of Dukes just wants to talk.”

“Too true.” She leaned forward and ran a finger along his shoulder. “I was hoping we could help one another in the upcoming tournament.”

Cardin glanced at the seats nearest him, but none of the other students paid them any mind. They were too busy discussing the team up on the stage, or more to the point, the bladed hoverboard one of them stood on. Even with the boost it provided, its rider stood shorter than the rest of her teammates.

“We’re from opposing schools. Why help out one another?”

“Neither of us care about that. You’re just interested in getting rid of a certain contestant, correct?”

Cardin let his eyes wander over to Pyrrha, and he even tilted his head to exaggerate the attention. There was no point in denying it.

“I was also hoping to win the tournament.”

“I could help you with that.” Her fingers crept up his neck. “Of course, I’m not a nice enough girl to do it just because I think you’re cute.”

Even as he felt his face flush, he rolled his eyes at Cinder’s ploy. He brushed her fingers away as they crept up his chin. “What do you want?”

“Not here. It would be better to discuss it in private. For now, why don’t we stay together and talk? I would like to know more about you.”

“And I you. Lunch is next period. Our teams can take a table together.”

“Too obvious,” Cinder said. “Let’s have a table for just the two of us. That way, people will draw a different conclusion.”

The second advance made him pause. It was plain to him that she was trying to get close to him, but why? Dozens of reasons ran through his mind, but none seemed to fit.

“We should keep our teammates close,” Cardin said. “The same table.”

“We should sit next to each other.”

“Face to face.”

“At the end of the table, not the middle. And we enter the cafeteria together.”

“We enter separate.”

“I haven’t been to this school before.” Her hand went on his chair, but she refrained from touching him. “I might get lost trying to find your table.”

“Fine, but no holding hands.”

“We have a deal, then.” She leaned back, and her hand left the chair. “What do you think of the other teams?”

“Not much to think,” Cardin said. “Haven has fewer teams than usual, and Vacuo is as underwhelming as ever. Atlas should be a different story.”

Cinder hummed to herself. “Atlas is too interested in proving its strength. They try to inspire respect and comfort, but all they create is fear.”

“There’s something to be said for having a large military when the world is overrun with Grimm. Some Councillors have pushed for stepping up the budget, but it keeps drowning in politics.”

“You think Atlas is right to have a large military?”

“It seems to be working out for them.”

“Would your opinion change if I told you that General Ironwood will be bringing his armies to Vale within a week?”

Cardin turned around. She looked down at him with a sly grin.

“He would have to have the Council’s approval.”

“He will have it by the end of tomorrow’s meeting.”

“It’s not even on the agenda.”

“It will be a last-minute addition.” Cinder ran a hand through her hair and looked towards Professor Goodwitch. “They don’t want Ozpin interfering.”

“Why would the Dukes ever agree to this?”

“The SDC has kindly offered to increase Dust shipments to Vale and lower prices if this country allows Atlesian military control over security on certain matters. They were quite concerned after their last freighter got attacked by the White Fang.”

It explained too well why that freighter was unprotected. Throw in Torchwick and the White Fang working under someone’s orders, and it made a troubling thought.

“That’s a dangerous gamble,” Cardin said.

“You can only gain as much as you stand to lose.”

Cardin turned back around. “Why are you telling me this?”

Cinder leaned close enough for him to feel her breath on his ear. It felt like he had stuck his head in an oven. “Because I think you’re cute.”

Professor Goodwitch had gotten through most of the Atlesian teams. The last one she introduced had the same orange-haired girl he saw by the docks the previous evening. He leaned forward for a closer look, but saw nothing remarkable about her, nothing that would suggest that she could split a Bullhead in half with a laser.

“Is there something about her that interests you?” Cinder asked. “You’re making me jealous.”

“I think she needs to be watched.” After a moment’s consideration, he said, “I’ve heard rumors that she has the latest Atlesian technology, something strong enough to cut a Bullhead in half.”

“Oh really? I’ve heard similar rumors, but I haven’t been able to put a face to them. May I ask why you gave me such an intriguing nugget of information?”

“Because I think you’re cute.”

“You’re going to make a girl blush.”

He glanced back. There wasn’t a hint of color on her cheeks, but her eyes gleamed at him with redoubled interest.

Professor Goodwitch cleared her throat, and the background hum of indistinct conversations fell silent, leaving only the sounds of moving machinery.

“Now, I trust that you’re all wondering what this is behind me. We’ve been working hard to develop a new system to hone our students’ agility. After all, Aura can only take you so far, and if you keep trading blows with Grimm, you will eventually run out. Now, Mr. Winchester has volunteered to be the first to demonstrate what he can do.”

Cardin closed his eyes and swore to himself. He had all but forgotten about the agility machine, and though Blake’s exercises had helped, his injuries made it impossible to move quickly at the moment.

Every pair of eyes in the room was on him as he stood. The muscles in his chest and thighs protested with dull, burning pangs as the yellowed bruises stretched and bent. His bones were lead bars, his muscles bags of Jell-O, with cement block shoes and a full set of dumbbell weights for his plate mail.

“I don’t know how I feel about testing something that you can’t even turn off.”

He got a handful of chuckles from the room. Glynda motioned him forward with her riding crop and said, “Come on, it’s perfectly safe. I had Professor Port test it earlier this morning.”

“Is that why he was absent from class?” Ruby asked.

Cardin gestured towards Ruby. “My point exactly. I’d rather not risk an injury so close to the Vytal Festival. Perhaps we should postpone this exercise until such a time you can guarantee that it is safe.”

Nora stood up and pointed at him. “Sounds like someone is scared.”

Cardin reminded himself to have her die a slow, painful death someday.

Before Cardin could think of a response, Glynda said, “It is quite alright if you don’t feel comfortable being the first to go. Perhaps someone else would be willing to show the class how it is done?”

There was a wicked gleam in Professor Goodwitch’s eyes that she tried to hide behind her impassive strict-teacher mask. It became all too clear to him that its safety features had been turned off in light of his recent negotiations with Ozpin.

So, Glynda’s torture machine, or public ridicule before an international audience?

His eyes drifted away from Nora and Goodwitch, over to Ruby’s team. Blake was staring at him, as if waiting for a signal. He thought about giving her one, but his gaze slid over to Yang. He thought she would be delighted, yet she watched him without a smile, arms crossed with an expression that asked him whether he had the balls to go up there.

Blake started up, but Cardin took a step forward.

“I would rather not leave our guests with the impression that the students of Beacon are afraid of a few swinging blocks.”

Professor Goodwitch smiled. She raised her baton, and all the machinery ground to a halt. The motors groaned as they struggled against the invisible force holding them back.

“Very well, Mr. Winchester. You may step inside when you are ready.”

His legs protested as he climbed each stair. The machines closed in around him, no doubt Professor Goodwitch’s doing, as he made his way towards the center. He studied the layout, trying to find a safe spot, but everywhere he looked had ropes ready to snare him, padded bars poised to sweep his ankles or clobber his face, and giant pendulums that could knock him into the stands.

Then, he saw it, a stretch of floor the size of a coffin where two lower bars came within an arm’s length of touching each other. As Glynda released the machinery, Cardin dove for it. His back throbbed as he rolled into position, and one of the bars nearly smacked him in the nose, but he made it to safety. The air tumbled around him as bars and ropes whirled harmlessly overhead.

A murmur rose in the crowd, just large enough to reach him over the din of machinery. He called out, “Am I doing it right, Professor Goodwitch?”

Laughter rippled through the stands. Glynda looked ready to snap her riding crop in half.

“If you’re just going to lie around in there, then you may as well come out. I will find someone more willing to participate.”

The machines stopped again. Cardin clambered up to his feet, propping himself on a bar so his legs wouldn’t give out. Like a drowning man reaching for air, he rushed towards the safety of the stands.

The machines started moving again before he made it halfway.

Off of blind instinct, Cardin dodged the first few blows. His gut screamed as he doubled over to let a pendulum thrash the air above him, and his arms groaned and popped as they waved to keep him on his feet. His knees buckled with each step, but he pressed forward, struggling inch by inch towards freedom.

Out of nowhere, a rope snagged him by an armpit. After that, the machine had him. It dragged him backwards through the obstacles, pummeling him with each one he had ducked around. A pendulum flipped him up-side-down, and another rope coiled around an ankle. Though his Aura blocked each hit, the bruises underneath made every muffled blow a Yang-quality gut punch.

It wasn’t another twenty seconds before Goodwitch made the machines stop. The ropes uncoiled themselves, and he fell twenty feet to the floor, hitting a few obstacles along the way.

“My apologies, Cardin, my riding crop slipped,” Professor Goodwitch said as he walked back to the stands. “I am impressed by how you did being caught by surprise like that.” In a whisper, she added, “You did a lot better than Professor Port.”

He whispered back, “So that’s what you’re into? Kinky.”

Professor Goodwitch turned scarlet. He had a feeling that the only thing that kept him from a year’s worth of detentions were Ozpin’s orders.

As he sat back down, Cinder whispered, “That was well done, considering your injuries.”

“What injuries?” Cardin asked. He glanced down at his arms, but those bruises had already healed over.

“It’s no secret what happened last night,” Cinder said. “There are many wondering if you sent Blake there so you would have an excuse to stop Torchwick.”

He felt his stomach sink as the implications of her comment struck him. Considering that he had been spending time with Weiss, it would seem as though he were doing them a favor by defending the shipment.

“If I was planning to stop Torchwick, I would’ve gotten Ozpin’s help.”

“Perhaps,” she said. “I think it is clear that it was a coincidence, but that won’t stop the rumors.”

“What would?” he asked.

“Rumors that you were seeing someone else,” she said. “Rumors that you had formed new connections, connections that fall in line with what the larger houses are aiming for.”

Cardin’s train of thought was interrupted by Goodwitch’s dismissal of the class. The students rose and squeezed their way out of the crowded room. As they left, Cinder offered him her hand with a subtle angling of her wrist. Cardin ignored it and led the way.

Russell and Dove appeared out of the crowd. With a few words, he explained the seating arrangements and sent them ahead to secure a table. Cinder’s two teammates appeared, and she relayed similar instructions. By the time Cardin and Cinder arrived, both teams were seated together, with two empty seats at the end of the table. They made introductions and examined the food set before them.

The cafeteria portion of the lunch room was closed off. Instead, food was left on large serving platters on the tables. There were giant pots of soup, bowls of pasta, plates stacked with bread, and an army’s worth of meats, vegetables, and desserts.

Cardin picked up a whole squash that was in front of his seat. It had an unnaturally long stem that felt like varnished oak beneath his fingers. He gave the squash an experimental tap on the table. It hit the stone with a sharp, solid crack.

“What the hell?” Russell asked, twirling two carrots in his hands. “They’re frozen solid and perfectly balanced.”

Cardin examined the carrot. The wide end had been hollowed out to adjust the vegetable’s balance, and it was ice cold to the touch. He dragged the tip on the table and it left a long scratch.

“What the hell is this baguette?” Sky asked as he held up a loaf of bread the width of his thumb and long enough to poke Cinder from his seat.

“At least the burgers are edible,” Cinder’s gray-haired teammate said as he bit into a hamburger. “Ketchup’s a bit greasy, but I won’t complain.”

Cinder stretched a rubbery length of spaghetti between her fingers. Before her was a large bowl of celery, frozen solid and notched at one end. She also had a stiff zucchini, curved, about four feet long, and notched at both ends.

Cardin reached for the plate of hamburgers. He sampled the ketchup from a large red squirt bottle and found that it wasn’t just greasy, it felt like motor oil. A quick glance across all the tables showed that all the other food was just as inedible. There were coils of sausage with casings too rubbery to bite through, rock-hard loaves in all shapes and sizes, whole rotisserie chickens, and an entire swordfish, head and all, on a bed of ice.

“Is the food always like this?” Cinder asked.

“It isn’t.” Cardin hefted the squash in his hand. It felt too familiar. He examined a stack of plates and found they were all made of stainless steel. “I think we should leave.”

The cry of “Food fight!” echoed across the cafeteria. Within seconds, the whole room had descended into madness. Teams clumped together in ragtag bands, wielding the inedible food items. Apples and watermelons were hurled across the room, and students dueled each other, leek clanging against baguettes, lunch trays deflecting hurled cookies, and students grappling each other, soaked in motor-oil ketchup and smacking each other with drumsticks.

Cinder wasted no time. Within seconds, she had a length of spaghetti strung in the zucchini, and she nocked a celery stick. She fired into the crowd, each stick finding a throat. Wherever her arrows struck, a student fell, gasping for air.

Cardin used the rest of the noodles to tie the metal plates to his chest and arms. It couldn’t compare to his own armor, but it kept the worst of the flying debris off of him. The other teammates had tipped a table over and were huddled behind it with their weapons. The green-haired girl flung carrots into the crowd, spearing people in the legs, while the gray-haired guy hurled apples at heads.

“We should get out of here before this gets any worse,” Cardin said as he stepped in front of Cinder to ward off a baguette javelin.

“We should wait until the crowd thins out,” Cinder said. “If we move now, we’ll be surrounded.”

He looked down at her as she nocked another arrow. She had no smile on her face, but her eyes flashed each time she let a celery arrow fly.

“Go after RWBY and JNPR,” Cardin said. “They’re the most dangerous.”

“I’m letting them fight among themselves,” Cinder said as she brought down another student. “If I attack them, it’ll draw attention to us.”

Cardin scanned the crowd until he saw a flash of red. Ruby sped across the room with two baguettes smashed together to form a makeshift scythe. Pyrrha sprinted across tables after her, hurling baguette after baguette like spears. Nora had somehow gotten her hands on a long metal pipe, which she had used to spear a frozen watermelon. She swung it like Magnhild, smashing tables and cracking the tiled floor, while Yang danced around the blows. Every time she closed in with her chicken-gauntlets, Nora swung her hammer in a wild sweep that forced Yang back. Blake wielded a long chain of sausage links that Ren fended off with a pair of leeks, while Jaune backpedaled and hid behind a lunch tray as Weiss hounded him with the frozen swordfish.

After another ten minutes, most of the students had collapsed. Nora stood atop a mound of tables holding an armful of soda cans, with the rest of JNPR in fortified positions below her, while team RWBY prepared their assault. As Yang rushed forward, Jaune and Ren hurled watermelons, which she punched apart. Nora threw soda cans, and they burst like grenades as they hit the ground. Undaunted by the assault, Yang sprinted towards Ren and Jaune. She flung both her chickens. Ren dodged both, but Jaune took one in the chest and tumbled to the ground. Nora leapt from the summit and slammed her hammer at Yang.

While the two titans were distracted, Cinder picked off the last of the survivors from afar. Russell and Mercury combed the room together and finished off any stragglers hiding under tables. Within moments, only the four teams remained.

Cinder kept a celery stick nocked, and she aimed at the fight. Her hands twitched, and her aim drifted towards Ruby. She followed the agile red blur for a minute. Her left arm trembled, and her fingers jerked. The celery stick shot through the air with an audible whistle. It found its mark in Ruby’s left eye. She fell to the floor, crying out and clutching her face. Yang backed away from Nora, saw the celery stick, and traced it back to Cinder.

Cardin swore and gripped the squash. Dove, Sky, and Emerald hurled an assortment of foods, from throwing-knife carrots to a pot of soup still steaming hot, but Yang powered through it all. With a wild cry, she flung herself at Cinder. Another celery stick hit her in the forehead, but it only fueled her Semblance.

Just before Yang struck, Cardin stepped in front of Cinder and swung his squash. Yang blocked it with both arms, but the blow flung her back into an overturned table.

“You hit my sister in the eye!” she roared as she clambered onto her feet. “Nobody gets away with that.”

Fist blows hammered on his makeshift armor, denting them into bowls. Cardin gave ground step by step, focusing on parrying and dodging blows. His legs, already tired from the dodging exercise, burned with fatigue.

From his right, Cinder lunged forward with a pair of carrots. The pretend blades danced in her hands as she slashed and stabbed at Yang. Though the cuts did little damage, the ferocity of Cinder’s assault forced Yang back. Cardin took advantage of the extra space to wind up and land a powerful blow on Yang’s stomach.

Yang went to one knee. Her breaths came in ragged gasps as her diaphragm trembled. Cardin stepped forward to finish her off, but a watermelon at the end of a metal pole swung through the space before him, knocking a dented plate off his chest.

“I was hoping I would find you here,” Nora said. She helped Yang onto her feet. “You keep the fire-eyes busy. I’ll take care of Cardin.”

Cinder and Yang proved a match for each other, but even with support from Sky and Dove, Cardin had to dive and roll to avoid Nora’s frenzied assault. Tables were smashed to rubble, and food splattered across the cafeteria as Nora pulverized everything in her path. Dove charged in with a baguette, and Nora sent him flying across the cafeteria. Sky poked at her, and his baguette was smashed into croutons.

The hammer swung at Cardin’s head. He ducked back and tripped on a lunch tray. When he went down, Nora stepped on top of his leg and raised the hammer over her head.

“Boop!” she said as the hammer fell.

It stopped an inch from his face, held back by an unseen force. He looked up and saw Professor Goodwitch standing at the door.

“What is the meaning of this?” she asked. Her baton wove an intricate pattern, and the rubble shifted on the cafeteria floor. One by one, tables reassembled themselves and formed neat rows, then the grime and shattered remains of food formed a sludgy pile in the center of the room. Unconscious students were laid out before her, and she examined each one.

“Whoever started this is going to have detention until they have gray hair,” Glynda said.

“Well,” Nora said, “Weiss’ hair is already white, so does that mean she’s done?”

“You’re the one who threw that pie!” Weiss shouted, waving the swordfish in the air. A lunch tray was skewered on the end of it.

Ozpin strolled into the room and examined the wreckage with a smile. “Now Glynda, let the students have their fun. What’s the harm in it?”

“Harm?” Glynda echoed in exasperation. “They destroyed the cafeteria!”

“Really? It looks perfectly fine to me.”

As Ozpin had pointed out, no trace of the battle remained save for the discarded food, which was floating into a dumpster through a window. Glynda growled and stormed out of the room. Ozpin said a few muted words to team RWBY before following after her.

Cardin rolled to his feet and propped himself up with his squash mace. “Why did you shoot her? You should’ve waited until some of them were taken out.”

Cinder looked at her left arm and said, “My hand slipped.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Omake: All Tied Up
> 
> “Are you quite sure this is safe?” Professor Port asked as he stood before the gyrating, whirring obstacle course. “You said you can’t turn it off.”
> 
> “It’s perfectly fine,” Glynda said. “I can stop everything with my baton. I just need someone to test it out and make sure it isn’t too easy.”
> 
> Professor Port chuckled. “Why, if you wanted to do that, you should’ve asked Professor Oobleck! There’s no way such a measly little contraption could pose a challenge to the great and mighty Professor Port.”
> 
> Glynda affected a pretend pout. “I was hoping to see how you would do in there, but if you think it’s not good enough for you, I’ll give Bartholomew a call.”
> 
> Peter raised his hands in a conciliatory gesture. “Why didn’t you just say so Glynda? I would be delighted to show you how impressive I am.”
> 
> Glynda hid a triumphant smile behind her hand and stopped the machines. “Thank you so much. Now step inside, and I’ll count to three before releasing them.”
> 
> Once Professor Port was inside, she counted down and let the machines fly. Peter moved like a cat, leaping over obstacles, darting around ropes and snares, and pirouetting away from giant pendulums.
> 
> Glynda watched in disbelief for five minutes as her colleague flowed through the obstacles. Then she flicked her baton. The machines sped up, whining like a deluge of bumblebees, but Professor Port sped up with them. He was a white and brown blur bouncing through the obstacle course.
> 
> With an irritated crunch of leather riding crop, Glynda took control of the ropes. It took another five minutes to finally get a loop around one ankle, but once she had him, more ropes coiled around his arms and legs. She dangled him up-side-down in front of her.
> 
> “That was excellent!” Professor Port said. He was hardly breathing, and no sweat beaded his face. “I didn’t know you could make it move faster. Now, would you mind letting me down?”
> 
> Glynda ran the riding crop along one of his cheeks. “You’ll have to beg me for it. Oh, and call me mistress.”
> 
> “Ah, so you finally fell for the old Port charm, eh? I always knew you had a thing for me.”
> 
> She cut him off by tightening the ropes. “Beg, and maybe I’ll give you a taste.” One of the ropes slapped him across the thigh, and he let out a yelp. “Oh, and don’t worry, I already called a substitute for your class.”


	17. A Motley Crew

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again. I’ve been struggling with writer’s block this week. I’m only about halfway done with the next chapter right now, but I’m hoping to push through and get it finished either tonight or tomorrow morning. It was good that I delayed, since I was planning on taking it slower, but after thinking it over, I didn’t have any good ideas, plus the pacing feels like it’s slowing down, so I pushed it a bit faster. As for this chapter, I had a lot of fun in some places. I’ll leave you to guess what I mean.
> 
> For reviews, to HeartMachine782, I thought it would be interesting to see Cinder interact more with the students at Beacon. You’d think she’d be interested in trying to sow negative emotions in the students to help with whatever plans she has, and Cardin would make a fine pawn in her games.
> 
> And to AxDevilMan, I wasn’t expecting the food fight either. I made note of its existence in my outline, but I hadn’t planned on covering it. It just sort of… happened.
> 
> At this point, I’m winging most of the story. The outline wasn’t exactly fully solidified at this point, but it’s giving me the general direction of the story. Let me know what you think – I’m always looking to improve the quality of my writing.
> 
> With that, enjoy, and I hope you like the omake at the end as well. I can’t say for sure if it’ll continue to be weekly, but there will be one next time.

\----------

Beta: HybridAlabaster

Cardin watched as ship after Atlesian ship floated into position over Vale’s skyline. Some landed, offloading troops, rations, and military hardware, while others circled the city, rousing Nevermore from the surrounding wilds and blasting them with machine gun rounds. When the wind was right, a black mist blew through the city, smelling faintly of spent Dust and blood.

Cinder stood next to him on the roof of his dorm. She let a faint smile curl her lips. “See? I told you it would happen.”

“People are already complaining,” Cardin said. “If they weren’t killing every Grimm within a fifty-mile radius, there’d be riots.”

“Atlas is simply offering their support and protection. Why would people protest to that?”

“Probably because the ‘protection’ is enough to conquer the whole kingdom.”

“All the better to protect Vale from anything that could conquer it.”

Cardin shook his head. “I’m not stupid enough to think that the Dukes and Atlas are doing it out of the kindness of their hearts. If you know the plan, either tell me, or say nothing else about it.”

“I will tell you this much. Ironwood really is doing it because he thinks it’s best.” Cinder winced and put a hand over her arm.

“Still bothering you?”

With an uneasy chuckle, Cinder said, “She hits harder than I would’ve expected, that friend of yours.”

Cardin snorted. “No friend of mine. She’s hated me since we were little, back in primary school.”

“Sounds like there’s a story there.”

“A few, but none worth telling. Just don’t do anything to Ruby in the future, and she won’t bother you.”

Cardin watched her carefully out of the corner of his eye. Cinder had acted stiff and hesitant the few times she was around Ruby. This time, she looked away and tightened her grip on her left wrist, but otherwise, she hid her agitation well.

“Why don’t we go talk to them?”

Cinder looked at him with a start. “What?”

“They’re usually hanging around their room. We could just swing by, say hi, maybe apologize for the whole eye thing.”

Cinder looked over the edge of the building. Her hand stroked her left wrist as she thought. Not for the first time, Cardin wondered if it really was an injury, or some form of nervous tic.

“I’ll call Emerald and Mercury. We can all go together.”

“Sure, why not.”

After a few minutes, Cinder’s two teammates came up the stairs. From the way Emerald glared at her partner, Cardin knew they had been arguing again.

“Ready to go make some new friends?”

The rolling eyes from Emerald and Mercury’s sardonic grin suggested that they would rather stuff their mouths full of sugar. They trailed behind as Cardin led the way to Ruby’s room with Cinder at his arm. He had caught her trying to wrap her arm around his once or twice, but this time, she kept a few inches between them. As they went down the stairs, Cardin thought of Weiss, and of the rumors floating around about them. Though they had largely grown stale, any incident could bring them back to the fore. It would be best to crush them while they were unnoticed.

Cardin let his arm hang loose. They made it down to the ground floor before Cinder noticed the open space at his side. Hesitantly, she took his arm, and they walked side by side to Ruby’s room.

Yang opened the door when they knocked. Her hair was neatly brushed for once, and she had on her ‘going out’ clothes. A scowl flashed across her face, but it was smoothed over within a second. She looked down, at their entwined arms, and an eyebrow rose.

“Hey Weiss-cream, looks like Cardin’s got a new girlfriend.”

Weiss walked into view. Her hair was done in a neat ponytail, and she wore her favorite white dress. Her eyes darted from their faces to their arms, and back up again. Her cheeks colored, but she smiled as she walked up to them.

“It is a pleasure to see you again, Cardin.” She turned towards Cinder and said, “I don’t believe we’ve been introduced, but I remember your name from Glynda’s class.”

Cinder offered her right hand. “And who wouldn’t know the heiress of the Schnee Dust Company? It is a pleasure to meet you, Miss Schnee.”

Weiss’ smile curdled as she took Cinder’s hand. “Please, call me Weiss.”

Cardin wondered how she would respond, but Cinder only nodded and looked past them. Ruby was looking under the bunkbeds for her other shoe. When she found it, she squirmed under the bed and pulled it out with a triumphant cheer. Once she got up, she looked at her teammates gathered at the door and ran over for a closer look. Over her left eye, she wore a white eyepatch. She flinched when she saw Cardin, and her eyes drifted down to the entwined arms.

“Hey, what are you doing with her? Aren’t you and Weiss, you know, that stuff?” Ruby asked. Her face reddened, and she hid behind her sister.

“Like he said, he likes someone with a bit more to offer.” Yang made a show of checking Cinder out. “Not bad, but mine are bigger.”

Cinder raised an eyebrow at her. She looked ready to make a retort, but she glanced at Ruby, and the words died on her lips.

“I would like to apologize for what happened yesterday,” she said instead. “It was not my intention to hit you in the eye.”

Yang sighed and messed up her own hair. “Yeah, I’m sorry I got so worked up. I shouldn’t have thought that you did that on purpose. It’s just that it seems like the sort of thing that’s up Cardin’s alley, and…” She looked down at their arms again and swallowed. “I mean, Ruby was moving so fast, it was crazy you even hit her at all. I understand it was just an accident.”

Cinder’s left hand tightened around his wrist. “Yes, just an accident. I’m glad you understand.” She looked back at Ruby and asked, “It’s not permanent, is it?”

“What, this?” Ruby asked, pointing at the eyepatch. “Nah, the nurse says it’ll be fine. I’m just wearing it for a day.”

“Nora thinks she’s a pirate now,” Yang added with a chuckle.

“If she asks me one more time if she can touch my booty,” Ruby growled, “She’s going to get my boot-y in her face.” She reddened even more and held up her missing shoe. “This boot, not, you know, can we go now?”

“Where are you going?” Cinder asked.

“To look for a friend of Ruby’s,” Weiss said. “What was that name again?”

“Penny!” Ruby hopped on one foot as she put the shoe on. “She was at the exchange student introduction, but we haven’t seen her since. She’s never in her dorm room, and her teammates won’t say where she is.”

Yang shrugged. “I wanted to say hi to an old friend and get some drinks.” When Cardin smiled smugly at her, Yang crossed her arms. “Some non-alcoholic drinks. I have enough detentions with Professor Goodbitch, thank you very much.”

Cardin took his Scroll out of his pocket. “I wonder what she would think of that nickname.”

Yang went white as a sheet. “You didn’t.”

“You’re right, I didn’t. I’ll have to remember next time.”

While Yang fumed over the false alarm, Weiss stepped forward and said, “I was planning to go to the CCT. I’m hoping to get in touch with my sister and find out what’s going on.”

“You mean with all the Atlas troops here?” Cardin asked. He considered telling her what he knew, but hearing what one of Ironwood’s associates would say about it might be useful. “Let me know what you find out, will you?”

“So, your plan is to walk around until you see her?” Cinder asked.

Yang shrugged. “What else can we do?”

Cardin could think of a number of things, from checking Beacon’s surveillance footage, to consulting some administrative authorities, but instead, he said, “Sounds like fun. Why don’t we tag along?”

He got a “wait, what?” from everyone but Mercury.

“It’s not like we have anything better to do today,” Cardin said. He peered around Yang and saw Blake on her bed, looking at her Scroll. “I’m planning on getting some studying done tonight, but until then, I don’t have any plans. Besides, you’ll find Pauline faster if you have more eyes, right?”

“It’s Penny!” Ruby said.

“Yeah, whatever. So, does that sound alright with you Cinder? It’s a good opportunity to learn more about the people here.”

She glanced at him and smiled slightly at the subtext. With a crook of her finger, Emerald shot forward, and Mercury languidly followed.

“It sounds fun,” Cinder said. “I would also like to see some of Vale while I’m here. Perhaps you could show me around?”

Ruby bounced on her feet as she pushed past them. “Ooh, that’s a great idea! Let’s go!”

Cardin looked at Blake. She hadn’t stirred from her bed. “Isn’t Blake coming?”

Yang shook her head and looked back into the room. “She’s had her head stuck in that Scroll since we got back. Apparently, she got scolded by Ozpin and Goodwitch so hard for running away that she’s done nothing but study.

Cardin felt something tickle the back of his mind. Something about how she hunched over, eyes shining as she stared at the screen, seemed off. Since she didn’t seem to hear anything, including tonight’s study session, he reached into his pocket and sent her a quick text. Her Scroll didn’t respond.

There was a chaotic exchange of greetings and introductions as they shuffled out of the building. The racket drew the attention of the room across the hall. Nora flung the door open and sauntered out in a full pirate costume, with a corsair’s black hat, a stuffed fledgling Nevermore on one shoulder, a blue swashbuckler’s coat, a hook on one hand, and a peg-leg thick as a full-grown tree. Each step made a loud thunk on the floor.

“Avast ye hearties,” she said in a throaty growl, “Give up yer booty, or ye’ll be goin’ down to Davy Jones’ locker!”

“Nora, what are you doing?” Ruby asked.

Nora saluted with the hook. “Cap’n, tis a fine mornin’ ter set sail, tis not? What headin’ shall we be takin’?”

As Ruby spluttered and protested, Yang stepped forward and said, “We’re going out to find a friend of Ruby’s. We already got… hold on a sec.” She counted out Cardin and Cinder’s team. “Four guests tagging along. You want in?”

“Thar be treasure waitin’?”

“Does the treasure of friendship count?”

Nora’s peg leg thunked loudly on the floor. “Thar be no finer treasure in the world! Set sail, raise the anchors, suck on a lime, drown the squirrels, and chart a course for friendship! Yo ho ho!”

Weiss shook her head. “Are you really going out in that thing?”

Nora trudged up to her, thrust her chest forward, and towered over Weiss. “Have ye any problem with my digs, landlubber?”

“Your what?” Weiss backed away and sent Yang a panicked ‘help me’ look. “Just act normal, would you?”

“Normal isn’t in her dictionary,” Ren said from behind the door. He stepped out in a white sailor’s jacket, blue jeans, and a white cap, all of them soaked and smelling of salt.

“Ar, lackey, get back in the brig!”

“Nora, Pyrrha had to use the restroom.”

“She always has to use the restroom. Now get back in there and–”

“No, not that. The other use.”

Nora blinked. “Then why isn’t she going to the poopdeck?”

“We don’t have a poopdeck.”

“Then where do we poop?”

“In the brig, apparently.”

As the conversation continued, Ruby dragged her team, Cardin, and Cinder’s group towards the exit. As they were about to slip out the door, Nora’s attention leapt back to them.

“Ar, they be gettin’ away! Row faster, lackey! Full sails ahead!”

“You could just walk up to them,” Ren pointed out.

Ruby hurried out the door before Nora could catch them. No one in their group seemed to mind jogging across Beacon grounds to the Bullhead docks.

As Ruby talked with the pilot, the doors for the dock station slammed open. Nora strode in, peg leg and all, holding her smoking hammer in one hand and the collar of Ren’s soaked shirt in the other.

“Yar, mateys! Hand over the Bullhead and all the treasure ye got, or ye’ll walk the plank!”

The pilot looked nervously at Nora. “Is this a robbery?”

Nora leveled the hammer at him. “This be piracy, landlubber!”

Ren raised his head and made a conciliatory wave at the pilot. “Please don’t mind Nora, this isn’t a robbery. We’re with them, I guess.”

“I had ter catch favorable winds to catch up with yer vessel, and I won’t be lettin’ ye get away this time!”

Ruby sighed. “Fine, you can come along.”

Nora sang a sea shanty the whole way there. The third time she hit the chorus, Mercury joined in. With a shrug, Yang sang along, and that got Ruby going. By the time they landed, the pilot was humming the tune.

They started looking in the general direction of the docks. Ruby had used the logic that, since they had last seen her in that area, she might still be around. This had them shouting Penny’s name through the streets. Cardin joined in half-heartedly, as did Cinder and her team. It took Ren, Yang and Mercury to bodily drag Nora away from a large freight cruiser, and Ruby apologized to every person they passed for all the noise they were making.

Mid-afternoon came and went with a predictable lack of success. As stomachs rumbled, they agreed to stop by a burger joint. With a flourish of her family’s credit card, Weiss paid for all their meals. She basked under the thanks and praise from everyone around her and offered to pay the next time they ate together as well.

As they started walking again, Cardin hustled through the group to Weiss’ side. “You’re throwing around quite a bit of money.”

“What, that?” Weiss asked. “It’s nothing really, I get a fairly large allowance and I don’t spend it on much, just a bit of cosmetics, a new outfit or two, and some books. I might as well spend the rest, right?”

After lunch, the group split in three ways. Weiss went off to the CCT. After prompting from Cinder, Emerald offered to accompany her. Ruby went towards the center of the city, with Nora following her captain and Ren being dragged after her. Cinder seemed torn between staying with Cardin and following after Ruby, but she went with her in the end. Yang went her own way to a shadier part of town, followed by Cardin and Mercury.

“So nice of you two to keep me safe,” she said as she led the way.

Cardin scoffed. “I’m here to keep everyone else safe from you.”

Mercury shrugged. “I’m here for the view.”

Yang looked back at him and winked. “Like what you see?”

Mercury leered directly at her chest. “Very much. If Em had a pair of tits like that, I wouldn’t mind her mouth at all.”

They stopped in front of an old gothic building nestled on a street corner near the highway. Even at four in the afternoon, loud techno music blared through the closed doors. Between the large, red neon sign over the door and the suit and tie goon acting as a bouncer, Cardin instantly recognized the establishment.

The goon seemed to recognize him too, as the moment he saw them approach, he ran inside and slammed the door shut behind him.

“I don’t think this is a good idea,” Cardin said.

“It’ll be fine,” Yang said with a toss of her hair. “Just hang back and let me do the talking.”

They took a few paces forward, only to find that Mercury was hanging very far back. Even under the neon glow of Junior’s, he appeared pale.

“Is this place some kind of bar?” he asked.

“A nightclub,” Yang said.

“And, do they serve alcohol in there?” He licked his lips and took a step away.

“They do.” Yang glanced at Cardin. “I’m not planning on getting any, not with Mr. Killjoy here.”

Mercury looked down the street from where they had come and looked back at the nightclub. He walked over to a lamp post and leaned against it. “I’ll wait out here.”

“Suit yourself.”

Yang walked up to the door and knocked. Nobody answered.

“They’re probably not open yet,” Cardin said. “You’ll have to come back another time.”

“Don’t worry, they’re open for me.” She drew back a hand and punched the door. The deadbolt snapped.

Yang flung the doors open, walked inside, and shouted, “Guess who’s back?”

The music went dead. Within a few seconds, Yang had twenty guns pointed at her. Cardin hesitated at the entrance, and a few goons aimed at him.

Junior pushed his way past his men, shouting at them to not shoot. He stopped in front of Yang and said, “Why are you here, Blondie?”

“You still owe me a drink.” Yang grabbed him by the arm and bodily dragged him towards the bar. Cardin shrugged at the group of thugs, who were still holding their guns. Off to the side, he saw Miltia and Melanie, dressed in their red and white costumes. Miltia sauntered up to him and put a hand on his chest. “Here for some more lessons?”

“Nope,” Cardin said, gently pushing her hand away. “How’s business?”

Miltia glared at Yang. “Awful ever since she tore up the place. Why are you with her anyways?”

“I’m still trying to figure that out.”

The inside was one big room, all pitch-black floors, ceilings, walls, with white LEDs illuminating the borders. Red lights shot through the room from a series of overhead spotlights. The furniture was clear plastic with internal lighting that made them glow like coals. A balcony ran along the outside of the room, with an incandescent railing to lean against, and down a flight of white stairs was the dance floor. Up the stairs, and across suspended walkways was a bar, with the stools and bar glowing at the top, giving everything the illusion that it defied gravity.

Junior went behind the bar, mixed up a drink, and after a moment’s hesitation, set an umbrella in it. He offered it to Yang, but she pushed it away. “Just water. I have a chaperone today.”

Junior looked at Cardin and nearly dropped the glass. “Mr. Winchester, sir, a pleasure to see you again.” He looked back and forth between them. “Is she with you?”

Cardin took a seat and studied the liquor list. “I’m just along for the ride and have no idea what is happening.”

“He’s with me,” Yang said.

Cardin gave her a raised eyebrow for a second. Yang smirked at her, and Junior looked as though his brain was about to implode. With a shrug, Cardin said, “Sure, why not. Hey, do you have anything better than the crap on this list?”

Junior took a menu out from under the bar. Not a single drink on it was marked any less than a hundred lien.

“Seriously?” Yang asked. “After all that talk about getting me in trouble, you’re drinking?”

“Yes.”

“And you think I won’t tell Goodwitch?”

“You won’t if you have whatever drink he was mixing for you. Go ahead, I’m buying.”

The drink in Junior’s hand hovered halfway between the bar and the sink. After a moment, Yang motioned Junior over and took the drink. She left it untouched while Cardin read the menu and picked out something of middling value, on the rocks. He slapped a thousand lien on the counter. Junior didn’t need to be told to keep the extra seven-hundred.

As Cardin brought the drink to his lips, Yang took out her Scroll and raised her own glass. She snapped a picture of them both as they drank.

“There. Now if you tell, we go down together.”

“Suit yourself.” His drink had a smooth, rich texture that belied its high alcohol content. He could feel the liquor melting brain cells as it seeped into his blood. He set the glass of ice cubes on the rubbery strip that ran along the inside of the bar, Junior’s signal to take away the glass. Yang drained hers and gestured for a refill.

“So, Junior,” Yang said, “Mind if I ask you another question?”

“As long as you’re not crushing my balls again, go ahead.” He seemed to remember that Cardin was sitting there and hid his face by polishing a glass. Cardin gave Yang his best ‘what the hell’ exasperated expression, and she answered it with a cheeky, feral grin.

“Torchwick was here last time. What does he want? Why is he stealing Dust and working with the White Fang?”

Cardin felt the air freeze around him. His first instinct was to join Mercury at the lamp post. He shifted back in his seat, but a combination of alcohol and curiosity kept him there.

“I don’t know,” Junior said. “I haven’t even seen him since that night. He paid, I lent him some men, and none of them came back.”

“Don’t you charge a fine for missing goods?” Yang asked. With a smirk, she raised her voice and added, “Not that they’re worth much.”

Junior’s men grumbled in the background as they swept the floors and set up snacks for the night’s festivities. Cardin raised his own voice and said, “I think you’re selling them short. If I ever need a security detail, I’ll keep your men in mind, Junior.”

Junior snorted. “Really, trying to butter them up? Anyways, I’d rather not try to get in touch with him, for reasons I’m sure one of you understands.”

Yang looked at him. “Care to explain?”

Junior studied him without expression. If Cardin said too much, no doubt it would be in the ears of the Duke Cirilian and others before nightfall.

“Torchwick is on everyone’s shit list right now, thanks to rising Dust prices and White Fang connections. If Junior was suspected of helping him, or even having information on him that he was holding back, he wouldn’t last a week.”

“I already had to apologize for the part my men played in that robbery a few months back,” Junior said, “And apologies aren’t cheap.”

“So, you don’t know anything?” Yang gulped down her second Strawberry Sunrise and leapt out of her seat. “O for two, some info broker you are.”

Cardin felt the lien burning in his wallet. If he slid its contents across the bar, Junior might tell him something useful, something that would shed some light on the White Fang, Torchwick, Dust-stealing, Atlesian military conspiracy. Of course, if he did that, he might be found belly-up in the harbor tomorrow when the sailors load the first shipments. Instead, he followed Yang out the door.

“So, you trashed his bar?”

“Yep. He didn’t like the way I asked my questions.”

Cardin smothered a grin and lowered his voice. “What, you really crushed his balls?”

“Damn straight.”

“So, what were you asking?”

Yang eyed him up and down. “Tell Ruby, and Junior won’t be the only soprano around here.”

“Noted.”

“Well, I was asking about my mom.”

“Your mom? Isn’t she–”

“My real mom.” On her Scroll, she brought up a grainy photo of a black-haired woman with red eyes who could have been Yang’s emo twin.

“Oh. That explains a lot. So, any luck?”

“Nope.”

When they walked up to Mercury, he took one sniff of them and walked ten feet behind the whole way back to the Bullhead. Yang texted ahead to let her team know she was returning. Ruby and Weiss met them at the docks. Ruby was apparently successful in her quest to find Penny against all reason, while Weiss reported to Yang and Cardin that she had been unable to contact her sister. Mercury edged his way around Cardin and Yang as though they were Beowolves and dashed off into the night before Ruby could say goodbye.

Cardin waited on the rooftop for Blake to show up for the study session. Half an hour passed, and Cardin sent her another text. No response. With a frustrated growl, Cardin struggled through next week’s reading sentence by sentence, taking breaks to imagine what was keeping Blake from answering him, until it was time for curfew.

In Blake’s defense, it’s rather hard to notice, much less answer a text message when you’re fighting a world-renowned criminal in stolen Atlesian military hardware, alongside a stalker and his unreasonably handsome teammate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Omake: The Mercurial Alcoholic
> 
> “Is this place some kind of bar?” Mercury asked.
> 
> “It’s a nightclub,” Yang said. “Basically a bar, but with dancing. Sometimes punching too.”
> 
> “Nope. I’ll wait out here.” Mercury leaned against a flagpole. “Come get me when you’re done.”
> 
> “Come on, it’ll be fun!” Yang grabbed Mercury’s arm. His other snapped around the pole, but Yang yanked him away and dragged him through the door of Junior’s.
> 
> They took a booth with Junior. Mercury asked for water, but when he wasn’t looking, Yang switched it out for whiskey. She had expected him to spit and sputter at the gasoline taste. She hadn’t expected his eyes to widen in wonder, his breath to catch as though a beautiful girl had kissed him by surprise, his hands to shake as though he had discovered a pile of treasure.
> 
> Cardin, Yang, and Junior sat next to a stack of empty shot glasses, watching the carnage unfold in the nightclub. Junior’s goons roamed the dance floor, guns in hand, only for Mercury to fall from the rafters, pop out of a trash can, or leap up from under one of the walking platforms. He would snap the neck of his unfortunate victim, leave him lying on the floor, and vanish as the others rushed over there to investigate the corpse. They’d mill about, hunt the immediate area for Mercury, then spread out to repeat the cycle.
> 
> “Shouldn’t we be worried that he turns into a psychopathic murderer when he’s drunk?” Yang asked as she sipped on a Strawberry Sunrise.
> 
> “More common than you think,” Junior said as he poured himself some sparkling champagne. “Half my men fight better when they’re drunk, not that they’re much use anyways.”
> 
> “Aren’t you going to do something?” Cardin asked.
> 
> “Nah, this is too much fun to watch. Besides, I got hundreds of those guys. You’d be surprised how many disposable goons drop out of school and run away from home. I honestly can’t find enough work for them all.”
> 
> Junior cheered Mercury on as he dove from the ceiling, landed feet-first on a man’s shoulders, and twisted, snapping the neck like a bottle top. He sprang off the shoulders, landed behind a second man, and bent his spine backwards until it broke with an audible crack. One of Junior’s goons fired at Mercury, but he disappeared into the shadows, and the bullets raced through thin air.
> 
> “Nice, two for one!” Junior shouted. “Someone should make a videogame like this.”


	18. Partners

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ugh, writer’s block is the worst. I’ve been having way too much trouble writing this lately.

\----------

Beta: HybridAlabaster

Cardin woke up at five in the morning to an apologetic message from Blake. He tried to go back to sleep, but he couldn’t stop wondering at what Blake had been doing with her Scroll. To get it out of mind, he spent fifteen minutes drafting a response, saving it for the next day, but the sifting of words in his mind only made him more alert. With a sigh, he flung off the covers, got dressed, and started reading some more.

After an hour, he noticed Dove’s covers glowing from his Scroll. He put his own down and whispered to him.

“You up?”

Dove grunted and pulled up the covers. He blinked at Cardin with sleepy eyes. “What is it?”

“You can’t sleep either?”

“I was until a bit ago.” Dove rubbed his eyes and yawned. “What’s with that Cinder chick anyways? You’ve been hanging around her a lot.”

“She’s dangerous. She’s well informed and well connected, and I can’t risk making an enemy of her.”

“That’s it?”

“Well, yeah.”

“Should’ve known. I’m going back to sleep.”

He pulled the covers over himself, but flickers of Scroll-light still came from under them. Cardin closed his eyes. As worn out as he was, he managed a few hours of sleep before Russell shook him awake for breakfast.

During lessons that day, Professor Goodwitch went over the upcoming school dance. As dull as the affair seemed to Cardin, he absorbed every detail – dress code, time and date, the refreshments and snacks, other plans to come from Coco and Velvet that will be sent out by Scroll.

Once the class was done, Cardin noticed Weiss lingering in her seat, staring at him and giving him a subtle wave. He looked for Cinder, but she had already left with her team. Once the class had thinned out and Professor Goodwitch left, he tucked away his Scroll and sat next to her.

“What is it?” he asked.

“Well, it’s about the dance,” Weiss said. “I thought it might be fun if we went together.”

Cardin shook his head. “There’s enough rumors about us already. If we went together, a lot of powerful families would use it to turn our supporters against us.”

“Oh.” She hid part of her face behind her backpack. “Then who are you going with?”

“I don’t plan on going at all. I have more important things to do.”

“I see.” She smiled at him and stood up. “Well, thank you anyways. I know it isn’t easy for you.”

Cardin waited a few minutes before heading to the cafeteria. Cinder was waiting with an open seat next to her. All the other seats around his and her team were taken. Once he got his food, he sat down next to her and tucked into a slice of pizza.

“The dance seems very interesting to me.”

“Really? I figured it would seem drab and immature compared to what you’re accustomed to. Personally, I don’t have any plans to attend.”

“I disagree. It seems like an excellent opportunity for us to get to know one another better.”

Cardin put down the slice and turned to look at her. She was smiling, but there was no warmth to it.

“Others might think we’re moving too fast.”

“Do their opinions matter?” She ran her fingers along his arm, and an uncomfortable warmth crept up his shoulder. “If anyone asks, you could say we were acquainted before I came to Beacon. It wouldn’t even be a lie.”

Cardin swallowed and tried another reason. “There are a few families that would be displeased if they saw me in the company of another woman.”

“And they all voted with Duke Orgen. None will openly object, and any that plot behind his back will be ruined.”

“Duke Orgen approves of this?”

Cinder chuckled. “I wouldn’t be talking to you if he might object.”

Cardin felt as though he were walking alongside the edge of a cliff, with no way of knowing where the terrain might turn, or if the ground beneath his feet will hold his weight.

“I guess we’re going together.”

Cinder’s smile widened. “I guess we are.” She wrapped her left arm around Mercury and dragged him towards Cardin. “He could use a date as well. Do you think any girls would take him?”

Cardin scanned the cafeteria. “Most go with other teammates or people from Beacon, so I’m not sure.” His eyes fell on Yang. “You could try her.”

Mercury looked as though he’d rather ask out a Beowolf, but he still went towards RWBY’s table when Cinder pushed him that way.

Cardin looked past the now-vacant seat at Emerald. “What about her?” Cardin asked. “If she needs a date, I’ve got three teammates for her to pick from.” Russell grinned and puffed out his chest, Sky dropped his fork, and Dove scowled at him.

“I don’t like men very much,” Emerald said. “I’m not going.”

“Beacon’s a pretty liberal school. They’d be fine with same-sex couples.” Emerald’s eyes darted to Cinder, and she blushed. Before he had time to think about it, Cardin lunged at it. “Personally, I’m not into it, but what about you Cinder? Any interest in girls?”

Her eyes narrowed, and she glanced back at Emerald. “It’s always nice to have options,” she said with a soft, seductive purr.

“Well, Emerald, maybe you should try your luck. There’s more girls than guys at Beacon, so there’s bound to be a few feeling left out.”

Emerald turned away from him and vigorously ate a buttered slice of bread.

Mercury sat back down. He was looking pale, but when Cinder asked him how it went, he nodded.

“Nicely done,” Cardin said. “Word of advice, if you piss her off, watch for her left hook. She likes leading with that.”

Mercury gave him an uneasy smile and thanked him for the advice. Emerald took the opportunity to poke fun of him, but Mercury immediately recovered and pointed out that at least he didn’t have any trouble getting girls. That started another argument, with Russell taking Mercury’s side and Dove defending Emerald. Sky hunched over his food and tried to ignore the barrage of insults flying around him.

Once the day was over, he slipped away with Russell to a secluded spot on campus and called home. With an exchange of coded greetings, Cardin knew it was safe to talk.

“What do you know about Cinder Fall?”

“Not much, aside from the fact she has a lot of influence with Duke Orgen, and she’s rallying support from other houses. I don’t know what she’s doing either.”

“She asked me to the school dance. For the past few weeks, she’s been cultivating a relationship between us.”

There was a long pause on the other end. “So I’ve heard. You’ve handled it well.”

“Thank you. So, should I accept, or is there a valid reason to decline?”

Another pause, punctuated by some sips of wine, made Cardin grind his teeth. “I’ll have a suit made ready. It wouldn’t do to be outshone by your dance partner.”

“I understand completely. I will attempt to play it off as a casual fling.”

After that, he left Russell in his room and went exercising. This time, the text he had sent Blake got an immediate reply, and she was waiting when he made it up to the roof. She almost spoke right away, but he hushed her with a finger while he checked the windows.

“I am so sorry, I missed your text last night.”

Cardin raised an eyebrow at her. “I saw you staring at your Scroll when I sent it.”

Blake flushed, and she looked at her feet. “I had it on silent while I was studying. I didn’t want to be distracted.”

Cardin was tempted to pry further, but instead, he asked about her plans for the dance. Watching Blake’s face go from confusion to horror nearly made him smile. Once he had made it clear to Blake exactly what would happen at the dance, he had her make up for the studying they missed yesterday. He nearly missed curfew, but it was worth it to have the rest of the year’s reading done.

The suit arrived the next morning. He had expected something gaudier, something so laden with tassels and ornaments that he’d have to use his Semblance to move around in it, but what he found as he unwrapped it left him speechless.

It was cut from Vacuan silk, glossy black with the golden wings of the Winchester house sigil brushing the shoulders. The buttons were platinum and gleamed like gems. Along the hems and cuffs, delicate gold embroidery formed sinuous, enticing patterns. The pants were done in a similar style, and the shoes were made of black leather so soft he could feel it melting in his hands. The suit came with a red and gold tie, silken white undershirts, and embroidered black boxers that were clearly meant to be seen.

They were the sort of clothes in which he might have gotten married.

He checked the insides of the suit’s sleeves. His fingers caught on a pocket meant for a hidden blade, empty, with no knife to be found, a signal to keep up his guard and go along with Cinder’s plan for the moment. The blade might come later.

The days to the dance passed quickly. Exams were crammed into every class before everything shut down for the Vytal Festival, study groups filled their free time, and Cardin spent the evenings speaking with political contacts, putting his ear to the ground for any sign of Cinder’s intentions. The conversations were long and meandering, often without a single mention of his target. All he had to show after a couple dozen calls was an interest in the Dust supply and Atlas’ new military hardware. War profiteering might be her game, but it left no clues as to why he would interest her, or why she bothered studying at Beacon.

He met with Cinder at her room. Mercury stood stiffly in a freshly ironed suit, with his hair gelled into a straight comb and a fresh shave. Emerald wore her street clothes, but she looked just as ready for a dance. Cinder wore the same dress they had met in, but with red embroidery like flames licking up the hems of her skirt.

“You look good tonight,” she said.

“So do you.” He offered her his arm, and she took it.

Weiss and Ruby tended the door. Ruby looked at him with mingling fascination and fear while Weiss hid her anger behind a tepid smile.

“Welcome Cardin, Cinder,” Weiss said. “I hope you enjoy this year’s dance. Refreshments are on the back table, and the formal dances will begin in an hour.” Ruby stammered additional welcomes as they passed them by.

Their entrance drew every eye in the room, and most conversations stopped dead. In the dim light on the dance floor, Cinder’s dress flickered like firelight, and the wings on Cardin’s suit hovered behind him.

With a throaty chuckle, Cinder said, “I think they’re staring at us.”

“That, or they’re staring at Professor Port,” he said, gesturing at the man who had paused with a glass of punch at his lips. Red liquid dribbled down his chin as he stared at Cinder’s chest.

“You were supposed to say, ‘They’re staring at you, because you’re so beautiful,’ or something like that.”

“I think that would’ve been boring, don’t you?”

Cinder tilted her head towards him and smiled. “Yes, I suppose it would. Why don’t we grab some punch and wait for the fun to begin?”

Cardin grabbed punch for them both and held a plate of hors d’oeuvres for them to share. With both his hands occupied, Cinder fed him bits of fruit and sausage from her fingers, teasing his lips with her fingernails. Cardin felt his face begin to flush from all the people staring at them and diverted his attention by studying the people in the room.

First to grab his eye were Ren and Nora. Ren was also holding a plate of snacks, but they were all for Nora, who was scarfing them down and glaring across the room. Following her gaze, Cardin found Blake and Jaune, talking quietly in a corner. When Jaune took her hand, she twined her fingers around it.

Nora wasn’t the only one watching them. Close to the door, the monkey Faunus was standing with his blue-haired teammate, watching the pair with a disgusted shake of his head that sloshed punch onto his hand. The teammate patted him on the back and took him to greet a group of girls.

Near the center of the room, Yang and Mercury were hanging around a throng of couples. They were talking animatedly and smiling at each other.

“Looks like Yang and Mercury are getting along,” Cardin said.

“Indeed they are. What do you think of those two? They’re certainly an odd couple. It’s almost as if they’re being forced together.”

Cardin didn’t need to look where she was pointing, but he did so anyways. He scratched his chin and pretended to study them.

“Maybe their teammates paired them together, or it might be neither of them wanted to come alone.”

“Or perhaps someone is putting them together to make a certain someone jealous?”

Cardin rolled his eyes at her. “Now that’s just ridiculous. Sun only just got here a few weeks ago, and they’ve been dating for months.”

Cinder plucked the last of the sausages from the plate and bit it in half. She waggled the bitten end in front of him. “I heard that one of Nora’s teammates has been spending a lot of time in the bathroom. I hope they aren’t ill.”

“It would be rude to pry into their private affairs.”

“On the contrary, one might consider it courteous to express concern for an acquaintance that isn’t doing well.”

“You’ve been acquainted with this person before?”

Cinder kept looking at him, but Cardin noted the slight twitch in her neck that indicated the urge to look away. “Perhaps once or twice. I’ve done a lot of traveling and have met a lot of people.”

“A lot of powerful people, I would imagine.”

“Oh, plenty. It pays to know people in all the right places.”

“I take it I’m someone in the right place?”

She pushed the bitten sausage towards him. He opened his mouth, and she pushed the smoky morsel inside.

“That depends on where you stand,” she told him.

“And where do you want me to stand?”

Weiss stepped up to a podium in one corner and announced into the microphone that the formal dances would now begin.

“On the dance floor,” Cinder said. “Let’s show these children how it’s done.”

Cardin examined the room. Most people still mingled along the walls or around the snack tables, but a few drifted towards the open space at the center of the room. He offered her his hand, and she took it. With a gentle tug, she pulled him towards the dance floor.

Another hush fell over the room as General Ironwood strode through the doors, but this time, a hornet’s nest of angry murmurs broke the silence. Weiss asked the General a question, but he brushed it aside and went straight to Professor Goodwitch. He offered his hand for a dance, but she scoffed at him and strode away.

Cinder had stopped to watch the interaction unfold. “She’s close to Ozpin, correct?”

“I imagine she’s displeased by his involvement in the latest Council schemes,” Cardin said. “That, or she doesn’t like him very much.”

She pulled him to the center of the room. Several sets of eyes stared at them as Cardin put one hand on her lower back and clasped her right hand with the other. He felt himself sweating from the contact. They stepped back and forth, moving their feet in concert and turning with the music. The other dancers shied away from them as they circled around the floor.

“Want to liven things up?” Cinder asked. He could smell citrus on her breath.

“Which dance?”

“I know the Duke’s waltz.”

With the next beat of four, he whirled her away to the tip of his fingers. She spun, leaned back, and swayed forward, stepping back towards him. She pressed up against him so tightly he could feel her heart beating against his chest. Around and around they spun, veering apart, flying back together, pirouetting around each other.

Cardin felt like a passenger while the suit did all the dancing. Each crease of the fabric, each stitched seam pulled him through the motions of the dance. The elbows snapped forward to twirl Cinder away and curled back to bring her close. The legs of his pants tightened around his knees each time his legs moved a hair too far, pulling them back into position. The tightness around the shoulders kept his back straight, the tautness at the chest kept his breathing shallow, forcing each breath into time with the music. The shoes slid across the floor until he had the perfect footing. The fabric of his suit slid across Cinder’s dress like oil.

A few of the dancers had stopped to watch, and the whole room had their eyes on them. A ring had formed around the dance floor, and a hush fell over the watchers.

“Let’s see if you can keep up,” she whispered into his ear.

Her hands and feet yanked him forward into double-time with the music, turning his world into a frenzy of motion and blurred color. The suit seemed to know what step to take before he did, having him tilt Cinder in sweeping circles, spinning her like a top, and even lifting her in the air a few times. She felt impossibly light in her arms, as if buoyed by hot air.

They were alone on the dance floor. Cardin caught as many snippets of people and their expressions as he could manage. Weiss had abandoned her post at the door to watch, leaving a bored Ruby to stare listlessly at the night sky. Her expression was calm, but clenched hands belied the anger underneath. General Ironwood watched, his eyes darting back and forth to track their every movement. He was frowning and tapping his arm as if tallying how many votes he and Cinder could muster in the Councils.

Cardin felt his own attention slip away as the suit carried him through the dance. He pondered at Cinder’s political connections, stemming out from an unknown source in Mistral, to Duke Orgen, and outward through his tenuous alliances and underlings. It might be possible that Cinder is a red herring, a baited trap, meant to snare Cardin in a doomed marriage that would yank the Winchester titles away out from under his feet. If so, he couldn’t outright ignore the trap, it would be wiser to pretend to be lured in and extricate himself at the last second. It was also possible she had real influence, real power backing her, and if so, alienating her could be fatal. No matter where his mind spun, it always pulled back to that one core fact, that Cinder could not be dismissed. It was her music, her crowd, her dance that he danced for, all within a few weeks of arriving at Beacon.

The music reached a crescendo. As the final notes of the song played, Cinder leaned back, pulling Cardin with her. He bent over, forced forward by Cinder’s hand and the suit’s pressure on his shoulders, farther and farther until his lips were a hair’s breadth away from hers.

It felt as though time had stretched thin at that moment. His mind raced as he considered the situation, calculated all possible outcomes, but while his brain churned through the problem, the suit gave him one final push. His lips met hers. It felt as though he were kissing a frying pan, without the pain. In the room’s perfect silence, he heard Weiss’ sharp breath, a muffled gasp.

Professor Port chortled somewhere in the background. By that cue, Cinder pushed him up and away from her.

“Why don’t we take this dance somewhere else?”

“Your place, or mine?”

“Let me talk to Mercury first.” With a bemused grin, Cinder said, “I will make sure we aren’t interrupted.”

The circle parted for Cardin and Cinder as they walked hand in hand. Mercury and Yang were talking over by the punch bowl, while Weiss was mixing another batch. Cinder tapped Mercury on the shoulder, and he nearly spilled his punch when he turned around.

“Find somewhere else to stay tonight, Mercury,” she said in a mellifluous voice. “Cardin and I will be busy for a while.”

Yang reddened and looked back and forth between them. “You’re not actually… are you?”

Cardin shrugged. “Looks like it.”

“Wow.” She brought her cup to her lips and flinched when she found it was empty. “I, uh, wow.” She chuckled nervously and scooped punch out of the bowl Weiss was mixing. “I guess there’s hope for everyone, right?”

“Never thought anyone would be interested in me?” Cardin asked. With a mocking grin, he said, “Unlike you, I’ve actually done it before.”

Yang nearly choked on her punch. “With who?”

“Red dress and claws,” Cardin said. He leaned closer to Mercury, and in a voice designed to carry, he said, “Don’t get your hopes up. She acts tough, but she’s really shy.”

Yang’s face reddened. She took Mercury’s hand and said, “I just remembered we have something to do, right Mercury?”

Mercury looked between Cardin and Yang as she dragged him out the door. Cardin gave him a thumbs up just before he vanished from view.

“Cute,” Cinder said, “But I would appreciate it if you refrain in meddling in the affairs of my team. I don’t want Mercury getting distracted during the Vytal Festival.”

“I thought you didn’t care about winning.”

Cinder led him towards the doors. “I do, but there’s more than one victory to be had.”

The night felt chill and empty as they walked through Beacon grounds, away from the repurposed cafeteria to the exchange student dorms. Cinder’s hand warmed his whole arm, but it did nothing for the cold anxiety in his chest, sitting over his heart like a block of lead.

“What victory are you looking for?” Cardin asked. “I’ve spent weeks trying to understand why you’re here, how you’ve managed to garner so much political support, and what you intend to do with it.”

“You haven’t figured it out yet?”

“You make it sound so obvious.”

“It is.” Her left hand came up and stroked him on the chin. “I want power.”

“Who doesn’t?” Cardin asked. “What do you want to do with it?”

“The same thing everyone else does with power. Whatever they want.”

Cardin went silent for a moment. When they walked into the dorm hall, Cardin said, “Perhaps I should rephrase the question. How am I going to get you the power you want?”

Cinder paused before the door to her room. She let her left hand rest on the door knob and stared at it. “There is something that belongs to me, something that Ozpin is hiding here.”

“And you think I can help you find it.”

“If I went poking around Beacon, people would ask questions, and Ozpin might suspect me.”

“So you need someone to do your searching for you.”

“Exactly.” The door opened. Cinder flipped the lights on and went straight to the bed. “Help me find what I’m looking for, and I’ll make sure no one lays a finger on you. You will have the full backing of Duke Orgen and his allies, along with everyone else I’ve tied strings to.” She rubbed her fingers together, and glass spun itself into the shape of a dagger between her fingers. “I can even make you Duke, if you desire it.” With a snap of her fingers, the blade broke apart and vanished before it hit the covers. She slid her shoulders out of her dress and let it hang loosely around her chest. “So, will you join me?”

Cardin’s heart pounded in his chest. Through the open door, a draft blew at his back, invitingly cool compared to the stifling heat of Cinder’s room. A long list of ways he could wind up dead by the next morning ran through his head, all possible outcomes of either decision he made.

Cardin closed the door, set his shoes on a mat, and went to Cinder’s bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Omake: Joysticks 
> 
> Without any word of explanation, Yang dragged Mercury out of the dance hall and to her room. She locked the door and checked the bathroom.
> 
> “We should have a few hours,” Yang said. “Now take off your pants.”
> 
> Mercury shrugged and let his pants fall. Yang stared at the metal plating between his legs.
> 
> “You… don’t have anything down there, do you?”
> 
> “Am I supposed to have anything down there?”
> 
> Yang blushed and hid her face in her hands. “How long have you had that?”
> 
> “Long as I can remember.”
> 
> “And no one ever gave you the talk?”
> 
> “The talk?”
> 
> “Birds and the bees, what guys and girls do when they like each other, where babies come from?”
> 
> “Don’t babies come from white Nevermore?”
> 
> “How do you not know what sex is?”
> 
> “Oh!” Mercury reached into his back pocket and pulled out a pair of long, metal rods with a flat base and some buttons. “My doctor told me I could use these if a girl ever asked me about that. It even comes with a turbo mode if you’re into that kind of thing.”
> 
> Yang took one and stroked it with her fingers. “Yeah, I think we can work with that.”
> 
> ***
> 
> Several hours later, Team RWBY’s room was filled with the sounds of repeated pounding and Mercury grunting every time he got hit.
> 
> “Yeah, how does it feel to get dominated?”
> 
> “Go easy on it, you’re going to break it!”
> 
> On the television screen in front of them, two fighters attacked each other with fists. With a press of a button and a flick of the joystick, Yang’s character put Mercury’s in a headlock and kicked his knee.
> 
> “Yang, it’s four in the morning,” Ruby moaned from her bed. “Go to sleep already!”
> 
> “We’re almost done!”
> 
> The game’s announcer said, “Finish him.”
> 
> Yang jerked the controller in a series of intricate motions, but she missed the input, and Mercury’s character fell to a throat punch. As the game ended, white fluid seeped from the joystick.
> 
> “Eww, why is it doing that?”
> 
> “That’s the lube,” Mercury said “To keep the parts from chafing. It leaks out sometimes.”
> 
> Yang cleaned her hands off. “So, want to go another round?”
> 
> Mercury raised his joystick. “You’re on.”


	19. Assignments

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writer’s block was giving me trouble last week as well, but luckily, I’ve been planning the next chapter for a long time now, and it’s been going very smoothly. Shouldn’t be too much a surprise what’s coming once you’re done with this chapter. No omake this time, just didn’t have it in me. Probably won’t have one next time either, more to preserve the story’s tone.

\----------

Beta: HybridAlabaster

“So, how was it?” Russell asked.

Cardin left the suit and silks in a heap on his bed. “I might’ve enjoyed it if I wasn’t wondering if she’d stick a knife in my ribs.”

Russell grimaced and went back to getting dressed in his armor. Sky looked up from his Scroll and asked, “Any quest we’re looking for in particular?”

“Something that lets us stay in Vale,” Cardin said. “I have other work to do here.”

Sky looked through his Scroll some more. “There’s a few patrol positions. If we’re quick, we can scoop one up.” He tapped on a few of them. “Goodwitch is on one of them.”

“Then we better move fast.”

“Too late,” Dove said from the window. “All the other teams are already there. Maybe if you hadn’t slept in, we could’ve gotten front row seats.”

Cinder’s group met theirs on the way to the auditorium. She sauntered up to him and placed a hand on his shoulder.

“How are you feeling this morning?”

“A bit tired,” Cardin said. He looked past her at Mercury. “What about you? How was your night?”

Mercury turned away and didn’t say a word.

Emerald stood in front of him and said, “He spent the night up a tree. Couldn’t find anyone to stay with.”

“Shut up,” Mercury growled.

Before he could say anything else, Ozpin stepped up to the podium and gave a speech to the assembled teams. Cardin tuned out the history lesson and empty adages on individuality and freedom. The first year students were given first crack at the boards, but by the time Cardin made it to the front, most of the positions were already taken.

Cinder strolled by Cardin as he examined the sparse postings. Emerald and Mercury stood a respectful distance behind her.

“So, do you have your assignment?” Sky asked.

Cinder held up a Scroll. “Since we’re still short a member, the Headmaster was kind enough to let us stay in Vale for patrols. If you want to do the same, I think there’s still one position left.”

Cardin’s heart sank as they walked up to the selection screen Cinder had pointed at. Professor Goodwitch’s group was the only one remaining.

“What did we do to deserve this?” Russell asked.

Dove looked around at the other assignment listings. “Could we take literally anything else?”

Cardin held his Scroll over the listing. With a click, the job details transferred themselves. He read it through and verified the acceptance with a tap of his finger.

“It could be worse,” Cardin said as he watched Professor Port escort Team JNPR out of the room. “We could have their assignment.”

“Or theirs,” Russell added as Doctor Oobleck shouted coffee-fueled instructions at Team RWBY. “Come to think of it, we were screwed no matter who we got.”

“Well, at least we get to stay here,” Sky said. “There’s no way we’ll run into anything dangerous.”

“And we get good Scroll service,” Dove added. “And hot showers, cooked food, clean clothes, all that fun stuff.”

Professor Goodwitch strode across the room as students rushed back to clear a path for her. She frowned when she saw Cardin by the notice board.

“You accepted the patrol assignment?”

Cardin held up his Scroll. “I did.”

Her mouth twisted as though she had been punched in the gut. “Be at the Bullhead docks in full combat gear at seven AM. If you’re tardy or unkempt, I’ll dock points. Is that clear?”

“Crystal,” Cardin said.

Glynda waited there, as if expecting him to say more, but she left when General Ironwood came into the room. Cardin pushed his way towards Team RWBY, with his teammates in tow. He waited until Professor Oobleck finished his instructions and sprinted through the gaps in the crowd. Both Ruby and Blake looked as though they wanted to hide behind other groups, and Weiss pointedly looked away from him. Yang watched him approach with crossed arms.

“Wanna trade teachers?” he asked Yang.

“Who’d you get, Port?”

“Goodbitch.”

Yang snorted. “Ouch. Try not to get more than a month’s worth of detentions.”

“So, what happened last night?”

Yang’s smile vanished. “You mean Mercury, don’t you?” She smacked her gauntlets together. “I can’t believe I let you goad me into doing something so stupid.”

“Gets easier every year.”

She glared at him. “I got him back to my room, but the moment I pulled up my shirt, he bolted.”

“Too fast for him?”

“I guess.” Yang glanced back at her sister before asking in a low voice, “What about you?”

“I had better luck.”

She looked around the room, but Cinder was nowhere to be seen. “And you weren’t kidding about that other one, were you?”

“Miltia? Ask her yourself if you want.”

“How the heck did you manage that?”

“Ten thousand lien.”

Her eyebrows rose. “You’re into that sort of thing?”

“Not really. My father wanted to make sure I knew my way around a bed.”

Her face flushed, and she looked away. “That’s messed up.”

“So anyways, what made you guys pick death by coffee rants?” Cardin asked to the whole team.

“Blake said we should go Grimm hunting,” Ruby said. “It’ll get us in tip-top shape for the Festival.” She hefted her scythe and let it unfold in the room, nearly decapitating the group behind her. “I’m going to bring home the gold for Beacon.”

“In your dreams, little sis,” Yang said as she knuckled Ruby’s hair. “We both know that I’m the strongest one here.”

“Strength is nothing against a skilled opponent,” Weiss said quietly. “It will take strategy and tactics to win the Festival.”

“Oh?” Yang asked. “And where were these strategy and tactics of yours when I beat you in the ring last week?”

Weiss blushed and clenched her hands. “That was a lucky shot and you know it. Plus, you used your Semblance.”

“There’s no rules against using your Semblance,” Ruby pointed out.

“Anyways,” Cardin cut in, “We’re patrolling the city. Where are you going?”

“Mount Glenn,” Blake said. “There’s a rise in Grimm activity in the area, and we’re supposed to investigate.”

“They’re giving that job to first year students? Seems a bit dangerous.”

Ruby beamed at him. “Ozpin–”

“Recommended us for the task,” Blake cut in, “Since we’re one of the better first-year teams. It’s still close to Vale, and we do have a Professor with us.”

Yang shook her head. “Be real, Blake. An Ursa would use him for a toothpick. He’ll be busy measuring the length of its teeth as it’s biting him in half.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure,” Cardin said. “I’ve seen him blow an Ursa to pieces with his coffee thermos.”

Ruby stood straight and drew up her cape. “It’s a mechashift mortar and club combination. A handle telescopes out two feet, and the top of the thermos narrows to fire long-range explosive Dust projectiles. It’s also capable of using these rounds on impact for explosive melee damage.”

“Does she always do that?” Russell asked.

Yang rolled her eyes. “Where does he keep the Dust?”

“In the thermos,” Ruby answered.

“So, he drinks Fire Dust? That explains a lot.”

Cardin glanced around the room. Cinder was gone, but Emerald had lingered behind and was watching them talk. He cleared his throat and said, “I better get going before Goodwitch thinks we’re slacking off and makes us all do laps.”

“Or more reading,” Yang added. “She has me do tons of that in detention.”

“Then don’t get detention,” Cardin fired back. “Good luck with Oobleck.”

As he was walking away, his Scroll vibrated in his pocket. It was a message from Blake, in the vein of their casual friend conversation. It might be risky to make a rooftop trip so soon after that night with Cinder, but then again, it might play to his advantage if she thought he was inept. He sent a short text back.

There wasn’t much else to do for the rest of the day. Most teams spent their time packing for their missions abroad, doing weapons maintenance, polishing their armor, purchasing ammunition and supplies, reviewing scouting plans and team formations, but city patrols left Cardin’s team with far less to prepare. He half-suspected that Goodwitch would have them patrol with packs over their shoulders, if only to give them the experience of carrying supplies on foot, but until she said so, there was no point in preparing for it.

Russell was sharpening his daggers, filling the room with the rasp of steel on whetstone. The bucket he had set next to him was filled with murky black water, and a stained rag lay limply with oil and metal dust. Sky pored over his books and his notes, marking them up with a red pen in the margins and putting sticky notes over key paragraphs with probable questions and reference material. Dove was wrapped up to his neck in blankets, thumbing his Scroll through the covers. From the canned punching and metallic sword slashes that came from its speakers, it was some martial arts game.

Cardin spent his time thinking. Between Torchwick with the White Fang, the Atlas Military, and Cinder, he felt as though a momentous gambit was happening in the Council of Lords, as easy to see yet hard to identify as a giant statue under a canvas cloth. A war was coming, that much was clear given the Dust hoarding. Using the White Fang, or rather, convincing look-alikes, made Menagerie an easy target for that Dust. Yet, why go through all the trouble? Why jack up Dust prices and screw over trade and economy to crush such a tiny rock? It could be a feint, a way of catching Mistral off guard. That could explain why Cinder had so quickly risen among the Dukes.

That was but one line of logic that ran through his head. Countless schemes were considered, their merits weighed and balanced against their risks and costs, then either discarded or shelved alongside the other maybes. However, by the time the sun had set, he felt even further away from the truth, buried beneath myriad minute possibilities like a lump of gold in a pile of pyrite.

When the usual hour with Blake had arrived, Cardin dismissed himself from the room. He waited in the stairwell, listening for footsteps from behind or the scrape of an opened window, but the only sounds he heard were muted, excited chatter and the rustle of packed bags.

Blake was nearly invisible in the shadows of the rooftop. She seemed to melt out of the surrounding darkness when she walked up to him. Her bow drooped in her hair, and her eyes didn’t quite meet his.

“I never thanked you properly,” she said. “For the docks. I would’ve been dead if you hadn’t helped.”

Cardin felt the back of his neck prickle. This apology felt off-character for Blake, usually too independent and reserved to admit to needing help.

“You had him by the throat,” Cardin said. “All you had to do was slice, and he would be dead.”

“You know I can’t do that. It’s wrong.”

“Is it?” Cardin closed the gap between them and placed his finger against her throat. Her jugular pulsed under his touch. “If I hadn’t been there, they would’ve slit your throat. You would’ve bled out, and you would’ve died. That friend of yours too.”

Blake snorted. “He’s not a friend.”

“Whatever. Point is, that wasn’t combat practice. That wasn’t training with Professor Goodwitch. That was life or death. You had a chance to kill, and you didn’t take it. You nearly died for that.”

Blake’s shoulders straightened, and her ears perked up. “I would rather die than kill someone.”

“Really? Would Ruby agree with that? Yang? For that matter, what if Torchwick goes on to hurt someone else? What if, by killing him, you could’ve saved a life, or two, or fifty?” His eyes went up to the bow, and he was suddenly, uncomfortably aware that he had been touching her for some time. He slowly drew back and wiped his finger on his shirt. “It’s not killing that’s evil, Blake.”

“Then what is?”

“People, maybe? I’m probably the wrong person to ask.”

Blake snorted. “No kidding.” Her sudden smile vanished, and she clenched her hands. “So, what now?”

“What do you mean?”

“We’re done with reading for the year, and you’re as good as you’re going to get at dodging. As for Jaune…”

Cardin raised an eyebrow at her. “Falling for him?”

Blake blushed and looked away. “I don’t understand why you’re still having us do it.”

“You want to know whether or not it’s safe to have feelings for him.” He felt himself treading on thin ice. If he said he intended to cut them off, Blake might act more distant, and push Jaune away before Pyrrha drops out. On the other hand, telling her he wouldn’t interfere might lead her to understanding his true motive.

“Doesn’t really matter what I do, now does it?” He pointed at the bow. “The moment he finds out about those, he won’t come within a mile of you.”

Blake scowled. “You can’t think he’s a racist pig like you.”

“No? You’ve been leading him on for months. How should he feel if he suddenly finds out that his girlfriend’s been a Faunus this whole time?” With a grin, he added, “He might even wonder what other secrets you’ve been keeping from him.”

She glanced nervously at him. “Is it okay if I tell him?”

“It’s your secret, not mine. Do whatever you want with it.”

The wind howled through the trees, threatening to rip away Blake’s bow. She held her ears down with both hands.

“How do you hide your tail?” Cardin asked.

“My what?”

“Your tail. Do you keep it tucked in your skirt, or something?”

She blushed and looked down at herself. “Not all Faunus have tails, Cardin.”

“Lucky you.”

The wind died. Blake crossed her arms. “You never answered my question.”

“About what?”

“What now? Are you going to have me do anything else?”

Cardin felt his hackles rise. Blake was acting too submissively for his comfort. He thought back to her apology, to the docks, to the moment she watched as an Ursa was about to rip his throat open. Perhaps guilt drove her.

“Have you kissed him yet?”

“Wait, what?”

“Jaune.”

Blake’s ears drooped, and she blushed as hard as Ruby. “No. I think he wanted to, while we were dancing, but he backed away.”

“Maybe you should give it a try. That is, if he doesn’t ditch you because of those ears.”

One hand went up to stroke the bow. “Are you telling me to do it?”

Cardin thought about it for a moment. A kiss might keep Pyrrha locked in her bathroom for the rest of her tenure at Beacon, but if he ordered her to do it, it might come off as staged. “No, it’s just a thought. Do whatever you want.”

Blake took out her Scroll. “I should go.”

He looked at his own. It wasn’t even past ten. “Something going on?”

“Yes. I have to meet with Professor Oobleck about an assignment.” Her eyes didn’t meet his. “Make-up work for the docks that Goodwitch assigned me.”

“And you’re seeing Oobleck for that?”

“Goodwitch was busy with something, so she told me to hand it into him, since I’m going with him on the mission.”

Cardin almost let it go at that, but something about that mission stuck in his head. “Didn’t you say Ozpin picked your team for that mission? Did he say why?”

Her eyes darted towards him and went back to the ground. “No, he didn’t give any reasons. I just think it’s because we’re the best freshman team and he wanted to challenge us.”

Cardin knew she was hiding something, which meant it must be because of her. Ozpin also likely knew he had Blake’s secret, so following the logic, there was only one way he’d be able to defend her if he revealed that Ozpin had faked her identification.

“Ozpin has you working for him, doesn’t he?”

She flinched, but she kept her eyes on the ground. “I don’t know what you are talking about.”

“Ozpin has you working as a double agent to track the White Fang’s movements. You’re infiltrating recruitment meetings to find out what their plans are, and you recently heard that they’re planning something to the south-east. So, Ozpin arranged your team to take on a mission in the area so you can continue your investigation without anyone the wiser.”

Blake was just about to say something when she caught herself. Instead, she said, “You guessed all that, didn’t you?”

“But I’m right, aren’t I?”

Her silence was all the answer he needed.

“Did Ozpin make you an official part of his task force?”

Again, silence.

“Access to requisitions and police records?”

More silence.

Cardin shrugged. “Doesn’t matter to me. I guessing he told you to keep doing what I say so I don’t figure out all this.”

Blake sighed and nodded.

“As it so happens, I’m also interested in finding out what the White Fang are doing. If you let me know what you find, I won’t tell anyone you’re one of Ozpin’s agents.” Cardin grinned and put a finger on her shoulder. “I’m pretty sure Ozpin wouldn’t like it if that happened.”

Blake drew back until she touched a wall. “You’re blackmailing me again?”

“Does that really surprise you?”

Blake snarled and pushed herself forward. “Fine.”

“Good. Then you can tell me what the White Fang are doing out in the middle of nowhere.”

“We don’t know,” Blake said. “All I know is they’re taking all the new recruits to a base somewhere in the southeast.”

“Where they could be doing anything,” Cardin finished. “Could be planning an attack, or using it as a training base. Will Torchwick be there?”

“Yes. He was at the last meeting, giving them instructions.”

“So Torchwick is calling the shots?”

“No. Adam Taurus is commanding the White Fang in Vale. Torchwick’s running an operation of some kind, and Adam is supplying him with manpower.” After a moment, she added, “Adam won’t be at that operation, from what he said.”

Cardin grimaced. “He came down from Atlas, huh? Gets worse every time I hear something new.” He thought about it for a moment. Taurus and Torchwick working together seemed about as likely as Yang passing up a chance to break his nose. Their partnership was yet more evidence that someone more powerful was pulling their strings.

“There’s a chance you might run into someone worse than Torchwick,” Cardin told her. “If you can, get a picture.”

Blake nodded.

“You can tell Ozpin I figured it all out. He might know already, if he has this place bugged. I would if I were him. You’d be surprised how many people come up here for a private conversation.”

Blake left first. Cardin watched the campus grounds, scanning for any sign of nocturnal activity, but the teams kept to their rooms. Through lit windows, Cardin watched teams from an adjacent dorm dole out cans of rations, fold clothes, measure out dust vials, and sharpen their weapons. He could neither hear nor see anything going on in his own room, but the closed window confirmed that they hadn’t been listening in on him.

Their Scrolls roused them out of bed at 5AM the next morning. Cardin snapped to alertness the moment the first jangle echoed in the room. He was up and dressed by the time Sky had on a pair of socks and Russell sat up in bed. Dove had to be dragged onto the floor by his feet before he would get out from under the covers.

The kitchens had opened early in consideration of all the departing students, and a large breakfast was laid out buffet-style at the table. Cardin speared a sausage with a fork and found to his relief that they weren’t tangled in tough ropes. The pancakes were light and fluffy, without serrated edges, the fruit wasn’t frozen stiff and sharp, and the beverages weren’t pressurized to burst at a rough jostle. There would be no food fight today.

His team was among the first to get breakfast, and they had plowed through their plates by the time most of the other students trickled in. They passed Cinder’s team on the way out. Mercury sported bags under his eyes and a wild bedhead, but both Cinder and Emerald appeared unaffected by their early rise.

“Perhaps we’ll see each other during our patrols,” Cinder said. “Keep an eye out for anything suspicious, okay?”

Knowing what she said for an allusion to her request, Cardin answered, “I’ll let you know if I see anything you might like.”

Team CRDL went to the Bullhead docks, but Professor Goodwitch had yet to arrive. Other teams came and went, flying off in every direction on the compass. After about half an hour, Professors Port and Oobleck arrived, with RWBY and JNPR trailing behind them. Cardin was pleased to note that Pyrrha kept a solid ten feet between her and Jaune, with Nora and Ren bridging the gap between them. While she looked well-rested, the way her fingers twitched as they clutched her spear betrayed her agitation.

Team RWBY was also uncharacteristically muted. Blake, no surprise, was nervous, checking her dust vials and ammo cartridges over and over as she walked. Weiss walked stiff as a board, clutching her rapier and looking ready to stab someone in the chest. Ruby hugged her backpack and looked nervously around her. Yang had her characteristic bravado, chatting with Nora and smacking her fists together. From how they walked and acted, it looked as though Yang and Pyrrha had switched teams.

Just before they boarded the Bullheads, Blake walked up to Jaune. They exchanged words that Cardin couldn’t quite pick out, but he could read Blake’s expression easily enough. The temptation to spill her secrets was there, but her eyes darted back to him and swiveled across the crowd. She drew closer to him, halfway to a kiss, but she hugged him instead.

Professor Goodwitch arrived shortly after, and what followed was the most grueling exercise she had ever put them through. Cardin had known they would spend the day walking, but she kept them out until dusk, made them skip lunch under the pretext that there won’t be time for a meal if Grimm are attacking, and she gave them each a pack of supplies half their height, bursting at the zippers with a week’s worth of rations, bedrolls, clothes, camping gear, and all the other unnecessities of a practice mission. When he finally got to set his pack down for a bowl of ramen, he felt his spine pop as his vertebrae shifted back in place.

As they patrolled the streets, they stopped to ask passerby if they had seen anything unusual. Glynda directed the inquiries towards Grimm activity, but the questions implied she really wanted to know about the White Fang. Most people had nothing to say, but a few reported seeing large numbers of Faunus walking at night towards the old warehouses by the docks. As night settled, fewer and fewer people walked the streets, so Goodwitch had them visit every dust shop, check in with the owner, and patrol the premises for ten minutes.

Once they returned on the Bullhead, Cardin and his team didn’t bother stripping out of their armor. They went straight to their beds, with their weapons leaning against their nightstands.

Cardin woke the next morning, stiff but well-rested, not to his alarm, but to his Scroll’s ringtone. He squinted at the screen and saw the fake contact info he had made for Blake. It took his brain a few seconds to realize that she shouldn’t have a signal, and a few more to realize why she did. He answered the call, but all he heard was static and a clacking, whirring sound.

His first thought as he rolled out of bed and scooped up his mace was how convenient it was that he already had his armor on.


	20. Breach

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think you should know where this chapter is going. I for one am really excited about this chapter, and I’m looking forward to writing about the fallout. 
> 
> A couple life things for me – first, my grandfather’s getting a bypass next Wednesday, so I’m rushing up to visit him this weekend. Second, I had a nest of baby robins right outside my door. I’m talking take two steps out, reach out, and touch some baby birbs close. I say had because they just left the nest today.
> 
> Also, omake's back. Yay!

\----------

Beta: HybridAlabaster

“Everyone, get up. It’s an emergency.”

He rolled all three of his teammates out of bed. They glared at him as they rubbed sore backs and knuckled sleep out of their eyes.

“What the hell is this for?” Russell asked. “New torture from Goodwitch?”

“Weiss just called,” Cardin said. “Vale is in danger.”

Sky was the first to register what Cardin had said. His eyes widened, and his hands tightened around his halberd.

“Grimm?” he asked.

That snapped the others out of their drowsiness. Russell scrambled for his daggers, nearly cutting himself in the process, while Dove buckled on his sword with fumbling fingers.

“I don’t know,” Cardin said, “But I can’t imagine what else it would be.”

Professor Goodwitch had given him her Scroll number yesterday. As a tribute to Yang, he had switched the ‘w’ with a ‘b’. He selected the contact and waited for her to pick up.

“This better be important,” she snapped.

“Weiss just called. I couldn’t hear anything since the signal was weak, but she shouldn’t have any service, should she?”

Goodwitch had put it together faster than his teammates had. “Meet me at the Bullheads. I’ll get us a pilot.”

Russell rummaged in his packs and pulled out strips of jerky. They chewed on them as they ran for the docks, weapons in hand. Ozpin called over the intercom for all resident teams to mobilize, but with all the departures yesterday, that only left a handful of patrol teams at Vale.

Glynda arrived five minutes after they did. Her hair was a tangled mess, and her glasses were crooked. A Bullhead pilot ran behind her, puffing and out of breath.

“Get on, quickly!” she shouted at them.

The Bullhead lurched through the air as the pilot struggled to keep his eyes open. They circled over the south-east corner of the city as Glynda looked for a place to land.

“Did she say where she was?” Goodwitch asked.

“All I got was static,” Cardin answered. “I’ll try calling her again.”

The call went straight to Blake’s voicemail. Cardin left a quick message telling her to call him back and put his Scroll away.

“Can you try calling Oobleck?” Cardin asked.

Glynda shook her head. “Already tried. We’ll have to scout the area until we find them.”

“Or whatever they called about,” Dove added.

As they scoured the area, the Bullhead played an evacuation warning. Sleepy-eyed citizens fled down the streets clutching bags of food and holding the hands of children.

“This better not be a prank,” Professor Goodwitch said after a few minutes. “There will be serious consequences if this proves to be a false alarm.”

As if on cue, a loud explosion boomed off to their right, followed by a concussive blast of air that knocked the Bullhead sideways. Without waiting for orders, the pilot turned the Bullhead towards the cloud of smoke rising in the early morning sky.

The source of the smoke was a courtyard circled by small shops and restaurants. A gaping hole sat in the sidewalk, and a couple dozen Grimm rushed out. A flash of white and yellow held back the tide of darkness, blasting it back with shards of ice and gouts of fire.

The pilot hovered over the teeming mass of Grimm. Cardin nodded to his team, and together, they jumped out the side doors. Cardin angled himself so he drifted towards a Beowolf, raised his mace, and swung it down at the base of its neck. It crunched beneath the impact, and he drifted through it as its body dissolved into black motes. A Creep sprinted at him, snapping and snarling as its feet scratched up the pavement, but he smashed its jaw with a backhanded swing of his mace.

He looked around for his next opponent, but the Grimm were all gone. Yang and Weiss panted, struggling to stay on their feet, while Goodwitch floated down towards them from the Bullhead.

“What happened?” the Professor asked.

Yang pointed at the hole. “Ruby’s still in there,” she panted. “Have to save her.” She took a step towards the hole and fell to one knee. Goodwitch stooped and helped her back up.

“You’re going back to Beacon.” She waved for the pilot to land. Once the Bullhead touched down, she guided Yang on board, but she clutched at the railing, refusing to step inside.

“No, can’t leave. She’s still in there!”

“I will handle it. You need to get back to Beacon and get a doctor.” To the pilot, she said, “Make sure it happens.”

The man nodded and helped Goodwitch pull her aboard. Weiss followed without protest and stared at Cardin before the doors closed.

Once they were gone, Goodwitch studied the hole in the ground. Without turning towards them, she said, “The four of you, remain out here. I will get Ruby out of there.”

She stepped forward, but Cardin put a hand on her shoulder. “Ruby’s not the only missing one. Blake wasn’t with them.”

Goodwitch nodded. “Then I will get them both.”

“And how will you fight if you have to carry them?” Cardin asked. He looked at the gaping hole in the street. The smell of spent Dust and decay wafted from it. “Not to mention, how will we seal the tunnels if you get stuck down there?”

She turned towards him with an incredulous look on her face. “Are you volunteering to rescue them?”

Cardin looked back at his teammates. Sky blanched, and Russell looked uneasily at the hole. Dove’s shoulders straightened, and his hand went to his sword.

“Don’t get me wrong, I’d rather stay out here and enjoy the sunlight,” he said, “But I’m not letting this city get torn apart by Grimm.” Just as he saw appreciation and respect touch Goodwitch’s face, he added, “Not to mention, rushing into danger and rescuing my fellow students would do a lot for my public image.” He smiled as the happiness curdled on Goodwitch’s face.

“If that’s what you’re determined to do, then I will escort you down there.” She adjusted her glasses. “It is far too dangerous for a first-year team to enter a Grimm-infested cave by themselves.”

Professor Goodwitch led the way in, stepping down the crumpled roof into an old train engine. As Cardin clambered down, the smell of blood hit his nose, fresh, cutting through the rank odor of older death. He looked down and saw a spray of red droplets splashed across the wooden floor. He set his palms on the cold, wrinkled steel of the roof and swung himself through the hole.

He feared to find Blake there, but instead, he found Torchwick. His glassy eyes stared through him, and his coat was dark red. He had the conductor’s radio in his left hand. Glynda tipped his head back. There were two gashes in his neck, a shallow, but fatal cut in his jugular, and a deeper slash that split his throat in half. His cane rested against the far wall, and Torchwick’s bloody prints were on the handle.

“This wasn’t the Grimm,” Goodwitch said. “The cuts are too straight.”

Russell hit the floor next to him and nearly slipped on the blood. “Shit,” he said, “Think Team RWBY got him?”

“Maybe,” Cardin said. He knelt to examine the cuts. They were too narrow for Ruby’s scythe, too wide for Weiss’ rapier, and not split-like-a-melon enough to be one of Yang’s haymakers.

Once Sky and Dove made it down, Goodwitch set aside the corpse and opened the door behind it. Cardin stepped through the blood after her, with Russell at his side. Sky gingerly stepped around the pool and leapt through the door.

Once they were all through, Goodwitch studied the entrance to the cave above them. With a flick of her baton, chunks of concrete floated to the edges and melded to the edge of the hole, narrowing the entrance until it would barely accommodate two people standing shoulder to shoulder.

The cave had smooth walls, and the floor was flat and split by two rails. Freight cars had fishtailed off the tracks, spilling a couple Atlesian Paladins and several large canisters of refined Dust. The snarls and howls of Grimm echoed off the cavern walls, but they were distant. A human scream pierced the muffled din, but it was too baritone for the missing team members or their instructor.

“The White Fang must be further in,” Goodwitch said. “The Grimm are slowing down to hunt them.”

“The White Fang are here?” Cardin asked. “How can you tell?”

Goodwitch frowned at him. Half her face was hidden in the darkness down the tunnel. After several paces, she said, “That was a Dust explosion. Grimm couldn’t have done it, so that leaves the White Fang.”

Cardin nodded. He walked over to one of the Paladins and brushed dust off its window.

“Do you think we can get these working?” He pried it open and hopped inside, but when he tapped the console, all that came on the screen was a crackling blue background with jumbled white code.

Sky came and took a closer look. “The circuits are fried. Must’ve been some Lightning Dust in that explosion.”

Sky and Russell helped Cardin out of the Paladin. As he brushed dust off himself, Cardin asked, “Were the White Fang really stealing all that Dust just for this?”

Professor Goodwitch looked farther down the tunnel. “I’m guessing they set off multiple explosions to lure the Grimm down the tunnel. What I don’t understand is why there aren’t more here.”

They walked on. Another few-hundred feet down the tunnel, the path forked a couple ways. They shone lights down the branching paths, checking for Grimm, but they were empty.

“I don’t think we have to worry about being surrounded,” Sky said in a whisper. “Any Grimm near the blast would’ve been drawn out.” He still stayed well away from the dark tunnels.

Cardin shone his own light down a tunnel. He caught a glimpse of a humanoid figure staggering in the darkness. Yelling for them to follow him, Cardin approached the figure, but he stopped short. The light of his Scroll revealed desiccated skin, a skeletal frame, and sunken, hollow eye sockets. It held a rusty sword in one hand that scraped along the cavern floor.

Cardin raised his mace and brought it down hard on the corpse’s head. The skull broke apart like wet clay, and black motes seeped out of the bloodless wound.

Professor Goodwitch took a sharp breath as she examined the corpse. “Let’s move on. We have to find Ruby before the Grimm.”

As they left the side tunnel and rounded a corner, they came upon what looked like an embryonic train station. The tracks ran on one side of a hollowed-out box, with a raised platform next to them. An assortment of cracked boulders littered the room, and at the far end, rocks lay heaped on the rails, blocking all but a man-sized hole at the top.

The boulders looked odd. They stood too tall, too smooth, too skinny in places, or too squat and fat, all different in shape but vaguely cast from the same mold. He walked up to one and circled around it. He stopped when he reached the other side, the side facing the cave-in.

The Beowolf’s other features had crumbled away, but the skeletal mask, though cracked down the middle, had the unmistakable ridges and spikes that, even made of stone and aged smooth, made him shiver. He ran a finger along the mask and came away with gray dust on his fingers. Long grooves ran down the mask where his fingers had dug into it.

There was a loud whoomph, like a rug hitting a floor, as Russell kicked over one of the statues. Gray dust was smudged up to his knee, and he stumbled back as the dust cloud hit his face.

“Where did these come from?” he asked, waving his hand in front of his nose.

Sky examined one of the larger shapes, likely an Ursa from its rotundity. He scraped off a sliver with his halberd and rubbed it between his fingers. “Earth Dust. For it to be this soft, it’s probably from when Mount Glenn fell ten years ago.”

Dove pointed at a petrified Creep on the tracks. “The train would’ve run them over.”

“Mixed with Ice Dust, maybe? If the ice melted, no, it’d be too soggy. Sublimate it with Fire?” Sky scratched his head. “Crazy things happen when you mix Dust.”

Professor Goodwitch frowned at the statues. As she strode past them, her eyes caught a flash of red in the rubble pile. She yelled to Cardin and ran towards it. Stone by stone, they shifted the pile, working from the top, taking care to put their weight on the sides, until they unearthed Ruby. Her eyes were closed, and she had Crescent Rose in a white-knuckled grip. A bloody scrape covered her forehead, and puncture wounds in her ribs stained her dress a darker shade of red.

Goodwitch put a finger to her throat. “She’s alive. We have to get her out of here now.”

“What about the other one?” Cardin asked.

The Professor scanned the station. “There’s no time. The Grimm will be here any moment.” She looked up at the rocks. “The cave-in will slow down the Creep and Beowolf, but a Deathstalker would smash right through it.”

“So, you’re giving up?” Cardin asked. “I think we’ve got enough time.”

The Professor looked down at Ruby. “She needs immediate medical attention. We can’t afford to wait until we find Blake.”

Cardin turned towards Sky and asked for his halberd. When he got it, Cardin activated his Semblance, and a tingle crept up his arms. He tried to bend the halberd in half, but it wouldn’t budge. Instead, he took one of the boulders that had fallen in, set the halberd on top of it like a lever, and picked up another rock. While he stood on one end, he put all his Semblance behind the second rock and brought it down just below the blade. The halberd snapped in half, leaving two rods of roughly equal length. Spearing Dove’s and Russell’s coats on both sticks, he made a makeshift stretcher. Together, they gently rolled Ruby onto the stretcher, face-down. To make sure she stayed on, Cardin tied the sleeves of the shirts around her shoulders and waist.

“Sky and Russell, take an end. Dove, go with them and fend off any stray Grimm. Goodwitch and I will find Blake.”

They didn’t need to be told twice. Dove ran ahead, holding up his Scroll, while Russell and Sky trotted behind him.

Cardin pulled out his Scroll as the light faded. Goodwitch watched him while she wiped dust off her glasses.

“So, what do you suggest?”

Cardin gestured towards the rock pile. “We would’ve seen Blake by now if she was on this side of the cave-in. Either she’s under there, or she’s on the other side.”

“And if she’s under, she would suffocate before we find her,” Goodwitch finished.

“Couldn’t you move this whole pile?” Cardin asked.

“I could, but I can’t see the individual rocks, so I might crush her by accident.” She took out her own Scroll and brought up an Aura reading. “I have to save some Aura to seal the breach as well.”

Cardin checked his own readings. Splitting the spear in two took a tenth of what he had.

“Let’s check the other side. If we don’t see any sign of her, we’ll shore up this pile and catch up with Russell.”

Goodwitch nodded. Cardin went first, clambering up stone by stone. The pile shifted beneath him, but he managed to reach the hole at the top. He pulled the Professor up and examined the other side with her. The light of his Scroll swept across the cave. Below them was one head of a King Taijitu. The other half of the serpent was buried beneath the rubble.

“Whatever turned them to stone probably caused the cave-in as well,” Cardin pointed out. “They must’ve thrown every crate of Dust they had on that train.” But he had a moment’s doubt. “If it was a train car, where was the wreckage?”

Professor Goodwitch looked down at the petrified Grimm and frowned. “I don’t think we’re going to find Blake. We better leave.”

Gunshots rang down the tunnel. Both of them recognized the sound. Cardin slid down the pile, plowing through the Taijitu’s head, and sprinted towards the gunfire. Glynda followed at his heels, baton raised.

Both of Blake’s legs were trapped beneath a boulder the size of a car. Blood seeped out from under the stone and pooled around Blake’s waist. Her face was pale where it wasn’t covered with dust, tears ran down her cheeks, and her arm trembled as she took aim down the tunnel. A Grimm yelped as a spray of bullets tore it apart.

He put a hand on her shoulder. She jumped and pointed a gun at him.

“Cardin? What are you doing down here?” She furrowed her brow, as if trying to remember something. “You got my call?”

Professor Goodwitch raised an eyebrow at him.

“You used Weiss’ Scroll?” Cardin asked, feigning innocence. “I couldn’t tell who was on the other end.”

Blake blinked at him for a second, then her eyes went to Professor Goodwitch. “Yes,” she said hesitantly, “Mine’s dead.”

Goodwitch gave them a flat stare and deadpanned, “So, in the middle of a pitched battle, you asked Weiss for her Scroll so you could call Cardin.”

Blake grit her teeth, and some color returned to her face. “Weiss was a little busy with a chainsaw-wielding maniac. She flung her Scroll at me and told me to call him.”

Goodwitch sighed and shook her head. “You do realize that sounds a little far-fetched.”

Cardin shrugged. “It was worth a shot. Now, are we going to get her out from under there, or are we going to keep bickering about who called who?”

The Professor studied the rock and tapped it with her baton. “I don’t think I can move it. It’s too heavy.”

“Can you at least pull up on it? I’ll roll it off of her.”

Goodwitch nodded and whipped her baton forward. The rock shifted and Blake groaned, but her legs remained trapped. Cardin activated his Semblance and put his hand on the rock. The moment his fingers touched it, the rock shot upwards. His fingers slid off of it. Goodwitch gasped as the rock plummeted back down on Blake’s legs. She howled in pain and dug her fingers into the floor, leaving long scratches with her nails.

“What the hell was that?” Goodwitch asked.

“How am I supposed to know? Let me try pushing it first.”

Cardin put his hand on the boulder. Blake groaned and shifted again, trying to wriggle free. This time, when Goodwitch lifted the boulder, Cardin moved with it, pushing it aside and letting it fall a safe distance away from Blake’s bruised, bloodied legs.

Blake pushed herself up one of the walls, struggled to stand, but her left leg gave out. There was a puncture wound in her lower thigh, and everything from her knees to her ankles was a patchwork of swollen black and blues streaked with darkening red.

Activating his Semblance, Cardin scooped one arm under her legs and caught her shoulders as she fell. She hissed, but she didn’t squirm in his grasp. She felt light as a pillow. He passed her his glowing Scroll, which she held in her left hand. The other had the gun pointed behind them. He turned towards Goodwitch and said, “I’ll go on ahead. Could you delay the Grimm a bit?”

The Professor pushed up her glasses. The might’ve glinted if they weren’t in total darkness. “If I couldn’t keep a pack of Grimm at bay, how could I be expected to teach the next generation of Hunters and Huntresses?”

Cardin rolled his eyes and went up the pile. It was slow going with Blake in his arms, and he nearly slipped a few times. At the top, he had to nearly double over to scrape through. He started down slow, but when a rock slipped out from under him, he dug in his heels and slid down the pile. Blake grunted as she got bounced around.

“Could you be more careful?” she asked. “I think my leg’s broken.”

“You’re welcome,” Cardin snapped back. He looked around at the Grimm statues as he walked. “What happened, anyways? Why are all the Grimm like that?”

Blake craned her neck to stare at a stone Creep as they passed. She tapped it with her gun, and it fell apart.

“I don’t know. We were fighting this girl who was with Torchwick, Neo, I think it was, and a bunch of Grimm showed up. A King Taijitu lunged at me from the ceiling, but then there was a flash of light. The rocks fell, and I was left with Neo on the other side.” She looked down at her leg. “She stabbed me, then made that rock fall from the ceiling and left.”

“So, no train car?” Cardin asked.

“No, the train was long gone.” She looked down the tunnel. “That explosion, was that…”

“Yeah, it was. Weiss and Yang made it out, and my teammates have Ruby.”

“And Professor Oobleck? He went back to disable the Paladins.”

Cardin looked back at the tunnel. “He’s fine. Don’t worry about him.”

“What about the Grimm?”

Cardin gestured to the statues. “A few got through, but we mopped them up. If it wasn’t for you guys, there’d be a full-blown Grimm invasion right about now.” He looked down at her. She struggled to keep her head up, but she was looking at him. He looked at Gambol Shroud, held limply in her hand, and saw the blood staining the blade.

“You killed Torchwick, didn’t you?”

She looked away. “I panicked. I don’t think I was going to do it, but I asked him how many lives I’d save if I killed him. I think I scared him. He called for Neo over the radio, and I panicked when I heard the door open.”

“You did the right thing.”

Her ears drooped lower. “No, I didn’t. This whole mess was because of me. I was the one that got us on this mission, and I didn’t tell Ruby or the others anything about it. Ruby wandered off in the middle of the night for a bathroom break and got ambushed and captured by the White Fang. When we went to rescue her, Torchwick had them start the train, then I killed him and that girl nearly killed both of us.” Fresh tears ran down her face, leaving lines in the gray dust. “If I had just told them what was going on, none of this would’ve happened. We could’ve snuck in and stop them from running the train.”

“And if you had told them, you might have never found the White Fang in time, and Grimm and Paladins would’ve poured into the streets without warning. Not to mention, Torchwick would still be alive. You can’t know how everything would have turned out.”

She looked as if she was about to argue, but she stopped when they heard footsteps behind them. Professor Goodwitch flung her baton at the pile, sealing up the top, and ran past them.

“Run Cardin! Get the hell out of here!”

Before he could ask what was coming, a sharp crack came from behind him. Blake stiffened in her arms and fired wildly behind them. Cardin, though tempted to look back, sprinted after the Professor. He barreled through the Grimm statues, kicking up large dust clouds in his wake, but he lagged behind the Professor as they left the station.

There was a nauseating clacking and slithering sound behind him, echoed hundreds of times over, punctuated by a high-pitched screech like a chainsaw scraped against a blackboard. The noise grew steadily closer with each step. His arms burned, and he felt his Aura fading out of his extremities. His skin felt chilled and clammy without the protection, but he pushed more Aura into his arms, turning them into throbbing coals. Blake and his armor grew heavier, and each breath was a stab of hot iron in his chest, but he ran on.

When he saw the light above the crumpled remains of the train engine, he risked a glance behind him. He wished he hadn’t.

The walls writhed with a teeming mass of white carapace, spindly black legs, and beady red eyes. On the floor, barreling towards him, was a squat, fat beetle the size of a Bullhead, with jaws that could snap Cardin in half.

Cardin would’ve screamed, if he had any breath left in his body. Lights danced in front of his eyes, but he could see the train engine. Its roof had been folded into a makeshift staircase and set in front of the hole. His feet slammed against the ground as he raced towards freedom. When he reached the stair, the metal bent beneath him, but held. Step by step, he struggled up the stairs, groaning underneath the growing weight in his arms and on his chest. Fresh air blew down from the opening, filling his lungs, reinvigorating him, coaxing him forward for another sweet breath.

Something sharp and sticky dug into his back. He stumbled, and Blake’s head struck the stair. Blood gushed out of a wound in the side of her head, and her eyes fluttered shut.

There was a sudden numbing sensation that spread out from that spot on his back. He sank to his knees, crushed beneath Blake and his armor. Shuffling forward with his head and knees, he managed another stair, but his own body grew too heavy to move. He mentally yelled at his limbs, ordering them to move, but he was powerless against the force that sapped them of their strength.

He looked up, and saw Cinder’s glowing, orange eyes, her black silhouette framed by sunlight. She had her bow drawn and aimed right at him. Her arrow whistled past his shoulder, brushed against Blake’s head, and snapped the cord behind him. The beetle bellowed, a clacking, whining wail that nearly split Cardin’s head. Strength flooded back into him, and with a roar, he ran up the last steps.

The moment he made it through, a pink-shaped blur the size of his fist raced past him and disappeared into the cave. Goodwitch waved her baton, and the last of the hole vanished behind him. He felt an explosion in the soles of his feet.

Nora waved at him, holding a smoking Magnhild in one hand. Jaune screamed Blake’s name, ran forward and took Blake from Cardin’s arms, setting her down gently on the street. Tears streamed down his face as he begged for a medic. He didn’t seem to notice the white light that had enveloped Blake.

Cardin’s own teammates ran forward and helped him into a sitting position. He watched as the wound in Blake’s head knitted shut and the bones in her leg shifted back in place.

“What the hell was that?” Russell asked.

“His Semblance, I guess,” Cardin said.

“What?” He stared at Jaune, and shook himself. “No, not that, the bettles.”

Sky, visibly pale and glancing at the spot where the hole had been, said, “I’ve never seen or heard of anything like it.”

Cardin wheezed as he made a sentence one word at a time. “If I’m ever about to do anything that stupid again, please break my nose.”

Dove grinned and patted his sword. “Will do, captain. Nice work in there.”

As he paused for another breath, he heard Jaune ask, “Blake, are those ears?”

He sat up just enough to see Blake. Her ribbon had fallen off, sliced in two.

Cinder twirled an arrow in one hand and smiled at him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Omake: The Doctor’s Adventure
> 
> Professor Port hummed his heroic theme to himself as he strolled through the Grimm-infested caves of Mount Glenn. The lyrics changed in his head – sometimes, it was fifty Beowolves, sometimes a thousand Ursa, what kind of hero would keep count over something so petty as the number of legions of Elder Grimm they had killed?
> 
> Light from up ahead in the cave caught his eye. He turned a corner, and saw Doctor Oobleck sitting at an old wooden table. He had a set of poker cards in his hand, two eights, a pair of tens, and an ace, and there was a pile of stones about four feet tall directly behind him. A corgi sat on his left, with its own set of cards in its paws. Going round the circle, there was a Beowolf, an Ursa, a white beetle, a Creep, and a Deathstalker, each with a hand dealt. A set of mismatched mugs filled with steaming coffee sat in front of each player at the table. The Deathstalker sorted its cards with a comically huge pincer, while the Beowolf scratched its head and counted the rocks they were using for poker pieces. 
> 
> After a moment, the Beowolf slid all its chips forward. The Ursa and Beetle folded, the Deathstalker added its own chips to the pile, and Oobleck raised them all from the pile behind his seat. The corgi had already folded, and the Deathstalker matched Oobleck. With a flourish of cards, Oobleck took the whole pile, tossing them behind him leaving the Deathstalker and Beowolf to find more rocks while the next hand was dealt.
> 
> “Most excellently played!” Doctor Oobleck told the Grimm, “But my two pairs wins out against a pair of kings.”
> 
> Professor Port harrumphed, and Oobleck turned around. “Peter! You’re just in time for the next round! Have a seat, and I’ll deal you in.”
> 
> “Bartholomew, the city is under attack and your students are in danger. We have to go.”
> 
> Doctor Oobleck took a long swallow of coffee. “Couldn’t it wait five minutes? Come on, before the coffee gets cold.”
> 
> “Bartholomew…”
> 
> The Doctor sighed and turned his thermos into a club. “I’m terribly sorry about this, but I have a job to do. It was a pleasure playing poker with you all.”
> 
> He whistled, and the corgi leapt in front of him. A swing from his club sent the corgi around the table like a fiery pinball, ricocheting off of each Grimm in a circle. The dog tumbled to a stop at the Doctor's feet and barked happily at them as smoke rose from its fur.
> 
> Professor Oobleck walked away as the Grimm dissolved into black motes. “I hope you’re happy. That was an excellent research opportunity, lost.”
> 
> “Old friend, you know there’s only one thing that makes me happy.”
> 
> Oobleck smiled. “Slaying Grimm and laying women?”
> 
> Professor Port hefted his axe. “You said it.”


	21. Awakening

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again, it’s that time of the week. This one sure went fast, probably didn’t help my weekend was shot between working and driving a couple hours each way to visit my grandparents. At least this weekend I finally have nothing to do but relax, get some cleaning done, cook the next two week’s worth of meals, get my license plate and credit card renewed, get a picture taken for my grandparents’ anniversary gift photo collage, and write the next chapter of this story. Sadly, no omake for this one, as I’ve been rushed for time lately.

\----------

Beta: HybridAlabaster

Cardin woke up in a hospital bed. He blinked as harsh light flooded his eyes, and with a groan, he sat up. There were three chairs in front of his bed. On the left, Yang snored loudly in her chair. Dove was looking at his Scroll on the right, and sandwiched between them, Emerald watched him intently. When he propped himself on his elbows, Emerald shook Yang’s shoulder and left. Yang opened her eyes, blinked drowsily, and saw Cardin.

“Oh, my bad. Thanks Em.”

The only response from Emerald was a closed door. Yang stood, stretched, and went up to Cardin’s bed.

“Hey.”

Cardin looked up at her. “Hey,” he croaked.

“You saved my sister. Blake too.”

Cardin blinked. It felt as though someone had smashed his short-term memory and gave him a pile of pieces, but after a moment’s thought, he had the cavernous adventure sorted.

“I suppose I did.”

Yang crossed her arms. “Blake told us everything.”

Cardin looked at Dove. He was still looking at his Scroll, but his fingers had stopped. “Everything about what? Her being a Faunus?”

Yang raised an eyebrow at him and followed his gaze back to Dove. “Yeah, that. You’re not going to harass her for it, are you?”

“Not if you’re going to break my nose for it.”

Cracking her knuckles, Yang said, “Good enough. Thanks for saving Ruby, even if it was your teammates that did all the heavy lifting.”

“I literally carried Blake by myself with a swarm of Grimm beetles chasing me.”

“And the rock that you dropped on her legs.” Before Cardin could reply, she cut him off. “Yes, I know that was an accident. But still, I think you should get docked points for that.”

That reminded him of what happened with his Semblance. He decided to pay Professor Oobleck a visit, only to remember that he had been left behind in Mount Glenn.

“How is Ruby?” he asked.

Yang frowned. “She’s okay and she’s out of the hospital bed, but she’s been getting a lot of headaches. It’s not a concussion, thank the Gods, but it’s not going away.” She glanced at the door. “I’m going to check up on her. See ya.”

Once Yang was gone, Cardin tried to get out of bed, but as he leaned over the side, his hand slipped, and he fell sideways. He barely caught himself on the nightstand, and Dove rushed to help him while he hung half-tangled in the sheets.

“Wait for the nurse,” Dove said. “Also, Ozpin and Ironwood want to talk to you.”

Cardin groaned and sank back in his bed. “Can we get this over with?”

“The nurse is with Blake right now, and she’s not letting Ozpin interrogate you until she checks your vitals.” Dove sat back down and read his Scroll. After a minute, he asked, “Why did you do it?”

“Go down in the tunnels?”

Dove nodded, and Cardin struggled to get the gears turning in his head. He could feel sparks bouncing off his skull. “Partly what I told Goodwitch, partly to get on better terms with Team RWBY. They might be useful during the tournament.”

“Why go after Blake, then? You nearly got yourself killed, for someone that’s hardly said a word all year.” Dove gave him a level look through his Scroll. “It’s not like you.”

Cardin took a deep breath. “If I was the one carrying Ruby, Yang would be suspicious. She’d think I did it so she’d owe me a favor. By going after Blake, she’ll be less certain about it.”

“I see.” Dove’s eyes went back to his scroll.

A moment later, the nurse strode into the room. To his disgust, fuzzy brown ears poked out the top of her head, making her hair net bulge. She had stern brown eyes, high cheekbones, and a long white coat that hid the rest of her.

“Good, you’re awake,” she said. “Let’s get you checked out.”

After some probing, squeezing, and other medical indecencies later, the nurse had a string of statistics that proclaimed Cardin’s perfect health. She scribbled them down on a clipboard and nodded to herself.

“Alright, let’s get you on your feet. I have to check your back.”

Before he could protest, she grabbed Cardin by the ankles and swung his legs out from under the covers. She pulled him by his right arm, grabbing him at the wrist and shoulder. He pushed off with his free arm, swayed on his feet, and leaned against the bedframe.

“Good. Let’s get that shirt off.”

He felt himself blush as the nurse unbuttoned the thin hospital shirt. He shivered as a draft brushed his skin and left goosebumps in its wake.

She studied his back and hummed tunelessly. “Haven’t seen anything like it before.” She ran a finger down his lower spine. Cardin clenched his jaw and willed himself not to move. “The skin isn’t damaged, just stained, like a tattoo, but there’s no pigment there either. No telling how long it’ll stay like that.”

“Could I see?”

The nurse guided him over to a standing mirror. She held up a hand mirror to his right and angled it until Cardin could see his back through both mirrors. Radiating outward from his spine was a stringy, tangled pattern of dark lines, like rusted roots, that stopped at his shoulders where his armor had protected him. He touched the marks and felt nothing but skin.

“Could you try activating your Aura and Semblance?” the nurse asked.

Cardin concentrated, and a white veil surrounded his hand. When the nurse took a scalpel and lightly cut at it, the glow pushed back the blade. The light shrank back into his arm. With the other hand, he activated his Semblance and lifted one side of the bed. Weak as he was, his arms bore the load without effort.

With a final scribble, the nurse said, “I’ll need to see you for check-ups every morning for the next two weeks, but it looks like you’ll be fine.”

“Two weeks? Isn’t that a bit much?”

“We don’t have any cases like this one on record, and that coloration on your back worries me. We don’t know what to expect.”

Cardin took a deep breath and stretched his legs. Now that he was on his feet, he was feeling aches and bruises from his tumble on the stairs, but the dull twinges told him his Aura would fix them within a few hours.

“Can I go now?”

“Yes. Headmaster Ozpin would like to see you immediately. He said to take the elevator up to his office.”

When he swiped his Scroll against the terminal at the elevator door, it flashed, and the doors parted. The ride up felt longer than it was, silent except for the soft hiss of the elevator as it rose up Beacon’s clock tower.

Ozpin’s office resided in the guts of the clock’s mechanism. Giant gears rotated soundlessly overhead. On the far wall of his office was a giant glass clock face, softly ticking away the seconds in the day. More gears turned underneath the glass floor, and even Ozpin’s desk had clockwork inside its glass shell.

Ozpin and Ironwood sat on either side of the desk, with an empty seat off to the side. A chess board was set up between them, and a cluster of chess pieces sat next to either player. Judging from the size, Ironwood had claimed more pieces, but the height said they were mostly pawns. Ironwood’s hand went from piece to piece, and he hummed in frustration as he picked out a move, while Ozpin studied him with a soft smile and stroked his mug of coffee.

“Just give it up, James. Either way, it’s checkmate in four.”

Ironwood moved his rook forward two spaces. Ozpin took it with a knight.

“Make that one,” Ozpin said. “Now you can’t stop queen to F7 checkmate.”

Ironwood examined the board, and with a sigh, he tipped over his king.

“How do you keep doing that?” Ironwood asked.

Ozpin sipped his coffee. “Years of practice.” His eyes went over to Cardin, and a smile touched his face. “So, on the topic of tactical disasters, have you figured out how the White Fang got a hold of your latest and greatest military technology? I for one feel slighted that you let them give your toys a test drive before me.”

Ironwood sighed put his head in his hands. “I already told you, Ozpin, I have Winter working on it. Whoever compromised that transfer, I’ll have them court marshalled before they can blink.”

Ozpin raised the mug to his lips and savored the coffee. “It’s enough to make me wonder if we’re going to have to change our security arrangements again.” He tutted and added, “It’ll make the Council of Lords look like idiots, that’s for sure.” This time, Ozpin made it more obvious that he was looking past the General. “Just in time, Mr. Winchester,” he called. “I take it you’re doing well?”

A sarcastic response was on his tongue before he bit it back. “Yes, Headmaster.”

“Good. Have a seat.”

Cardin took the unoccupied chair. It felt good to sit down, but he kept his expression neutral as he regarded the two Headmasters. Ozpin cleaned up the pieces and set up another game, while General Ironwood stared warily at him.

“Would you care to play, Cardin?” Ozpin asked.

Ironwood chuckled, but his shoulders stayed tense. “Looking for another victim, Ozpin? I don’t think there’s anyone in the world that can beat you.”

Cardin accepted the black pieces. Ozpin opened with C4, and Cardin put his pawn on E5. When Ozpin brought out a knight, Cardin did the same, and on the next turn, both knights were mobilized.

“We have already heard many details about what happened in Mount Glenn from your teammates, Team RWBY, Goodwitch, and Cinder,” Ozpin said, “But we would like to hear what you saw and experienced, particularly what happened when the Beetle latched on to you.”

“Where should I start?”

“From the beginning. Take your time.”

Ozpin pushed a pawn to G3, opening a path for his light-square bishop. Freeing up his own bishop and forcing a trade, Cardin pushed forward to D5. They traded pawns, but instead of trading knights, Ozpin put his light-square bishop on B2, readying another attack on Cardin’s knight and stopping a queen capture on that spot. Instead of backing off, Cardin captured Ozpin’s knight, and a pawn captured his in return.

As they exchanged pieces, Cardin told everything he remembered about Mount Glenn. As he recounted the phone call, this time confessing that Blake had called him, he felt more of yesterday’s events come back to him. He skimmed over everything until they entered the cave and encountered the walking corpse. Both Ozpin and Ironwood listened intently as he described how the impact had felt and from where the motes of dead Grimm had drifted.

After examining the board and checking multiple ways to attack Ozpin’s pieces, he brought out his dark-square bishop to attack F3. Ozpin countered by castling king-side, defending the square with his rook, and Cardin followed suit. Ozpin shored up his defenses, bringing a pawn to E3.

When he described the petrified Grimm at the unfinished train station, Ozpin was quick to jump on Sky’s Dust theory. Sensing a secret, Cardin decided to probe a little deeper into it.

“We didn’t see a train car in the area, so we’re not sure how the Dust would’ve been there.”

“Glynda found the train car by the entrance with the others,” Ozpin said. “It hadn’t been detached like the other cars.”

A lie, and they both knew it. Ozpin shot a quick glance at Ironwood, but the General didn’t seem to notice.

“We don’t need to hear any more about the Dust explosions,” James said. “Our forensics experts have gotten what they needed from the final blast zone. Please move on to the new type of Grimm you had encountered.”

Cardin skipped over digging up Ruby and the issues with his Semblance and went to the moment the beetles broke through the cave-in. He gave as much detail as he could remember, the color and shape of their bodies, the clacking sounds they made, their numbers, sizes, and relative speeds. The Headmasters only half-listened to this account, clearly waiting for the end of his story.

Putting his attention back on the game, Cardin thought about attacking Ozpin’s knight with his pawn. It was the safest option, but of course, the chess game wasn’t the point. It might be best if Ozpin thought him reckless. He charged forward with his queen, putting Ozpin’s rook in the line of fire. Ozpin brought back his knight to attack the queen, and Cardin retreated, putting his queen on G6.

Ironwood and Ozpin probed him for every detail he could remember about the beetle’s attack. He told them about the numbness, how heavy everything felt, the draining of his Aura. They asked question after question, forcing details out of him he hadn’t remembered until they squeezed it out of his sluggish mind, such as that last stair he crawled up on his chin and knees, and the icy sensation the numbness left in his back.

Once the tale was over, Ozpin smiled at him and brought his pawn to D4, forking a pawn and a bishop under the protection of two more pawns. Cardin moved his rook on that column, pinning the pawn to the queen. Ozpin ignored the move and brought out his other bishop. Cardin moved his bishop to attack the queen, and Ozpin brought his own forward to attack the black queen, under the protection of his knight.

General Ironwood drummed his fingers on the desk. His right hand, though muffled by the glove, made a heavy thunking sound against the glass. “From what we understand, the Grimm was attempting to absorb your Aura. Do you feel that anything is missing, any memories, or a piece of your Semblance?”

“My head’s been a bit foggy today,” Cardin said, “But no, I don’t feel anything like that.” He concentrated a moment, and blinked drowsiness out of his eyes. “Has something like it happened before?”

Ironwood looked away. “No, this is a first for all of us. We are trying to gather as much information as we can.”

Cardin watched Ozpin as the General said this, but the Headmaster’s expression gave nothing away as he appeared to study the board.

Though he knew it would cost him the game, Cardin captured one pawn with another. They ended up exchanging queens, a pawn each, and a bishop. Cardin fell behind by a knight, only getting a pawn in return, and after he took a second bishop with a pawn, Cardin lost a rook. By that point, it was a matter of Ozpin bringing out his rooks, sweeping up Cardin’s pawns, and forcing the black king into checkmate.

“Well, that was fast,” Ironwood said. With a chuckle, he said to Cardin, “I warned you.”

Cardin feigned a yawn, but halfway through it, it became the genuine article. “I didn’t feel like messing around. I figured the more pieces I took, the faster the game would go.”

Ozpin set down his mug and rose from his seat. “Then we won’t keep you any longer. Thank you for speaking with us. We hope that what you have shared with us will shed some light on what had happened in Mount Glenn.” He gave him a stern look and said, “I would appreciate it if you would refrain from spreading rumors about this new Grimm. The last thing we need right now is more panic in the streets.”

Cardin struggled out of his chair, refusing the hand that Ironwood had offered him. Once he was on his feet and able to stand on his own, he shook both of their hands. Ironwood switched to his left hand for the handshake, and his grip was light, as if Cardin were made of china. Ozpin gave him a more firm, hearty handshake, and thanked him for the game.

When Ironwood offered to have one of his soldiers escort him to his room, Cardin politely refused. With his ignorance of Ironwood’s standing in Atlas and among the Valean Dukes, coupled with the threat of being associated further with the SDC, Cardin couldn’t risk taking that offer.

As the elevator descended, Ozpin’s secret niggled at the back of his mind. While he thought it wisest to leave the matter alone, Cinder’s request forced him to look into any secret of Ozpin’s he could find. Whatever petrified the Grimm could be Cinder’s missing possession.

Cardin made his way to the student dorms. As he was about to open the door, it was flung open in his face, knocking him to the ground. Moments later, a foot came down hard on his stomach. Even with his Aura sponging most of the pressure, he gagged and coughed from the force on his diaphragm.

“Hey, did someone leave a package at the door?” Nora asked. Her foot tapped him in the stomach a few times, eliciting another cough, and a plastic stick slapped him in the face. “Feels weird.”

“Nora, that’s Cardin you’re stepping on,” Ren said. “You should get off of him, he doesn’t look very good.”

“Ren, dogs don’t speak. You’re supposed to say ‘woof’.”

“You should get off of him, woof.”

Nora stepped back. Cardin sat up on his elbows and wondered if he was still in the hospital bed, dreaming this all up. Nora had a blindfold tied around her eyes, but just enough light showed through for her to see. In one hand, she held a white cane, and in the other, she had one end of a dog leash. At the other end stood Ren, in a full canine costume, wearing a glittering pink collar. Even to Cardin’s eyes, Ren seemed completely unfazed by the humiliation subjected on him.

Nora swatted Ren with the cane. “Doggies aren’t supposed to stand either. Walk around on all fours.

“How can you even tell I’m standing, woof?”

“Because I can smell it. Now sit!”

Ren obeyed, sitting on his haunches like a dog. Cardin tried to get up, but a twinge of pain in his gut forced him to lie down.

“Nora, Cardin’s not getting up, woof.”

“Oh. Did I kill him?”

“No, you didn’t, woof.”

“Darn. Which way is he? I’ll try stepping on him again.”

Cardin had to roll out of the way as Nora’s foot came down where his ribcage had been.

“Nora, be nice, woof. He saved Blake.”

“All the more reason to finish him.”

“And Ruby.”

Nora paused, one hand under her chin and one leg in the air aimed at Cardin’s chest. After a moment, she set her foot on the ground, a safe distance from Cardin’s ribs.

“Fine, I guess he did do a good thing. Come on, Ren, let’s go on our walk.”

She tugged on the leash, but Ren pulled her towards Cardin. “Are you just going to leave him there, woof?”

There was another long pause as Nora processed his question. With a long sigh, she knelt next to Cardin. “No, you’re right, I can’t leave him here.” She asked Cardin, “Want me to drop you off at your room?”

“That’s all the way on the top floor,” he wheezed. “Just get me to Ruby’s room, I was on my way there anyways.”

“You got it!” She wrapped the leash around her arm and held the cane out to Ren. “Hold this for me. I’ll need both hands for this.”

Ren tried grabbing the cane with his hands, but the costume’s paws wouldn’t close around it.

“Use your mouth, silly, dogs can’t grab things with their paws.”

With a glance at Cardin, Ren gripped the cane with his teeth. Nora opened the door, and Ren propped it open. With a single scooping motion, Nora had Cardin in her arms like a stack of firewood. Despite the strength of her grip and the wild way she swung him about, she was surprisingly gentle. She followed Ren inside and knocked on Team RWBY’s door with her foot. Yang opened it and smirked when she saw Cardin.

“Looks like you make a fine damsel in distress,” she said. Her eyes drifted to Ren at Nora’s heels. “Shouldn’t you be a horse?”

“No silly,” Nora said. “There aren’t any seeing-eye horses. They’re too big to go inside buildings. Anyways, here’s your package!”

“Oh, you’re supposed to be a mail person!” She darted back in the room and came back with a pen. “Where do I sign for this?”

“I can’t be a mail person, I’m blind! How would I tell which address I’m supposed to send the mail to if I can’t read?”

“You could have your seeing-eye horse read it for you.”

Nora giggled and mimed handing Yang a clipboard. Yang made her signature in the air and handed it back.

“Right, everything appears to be in order,” Nora said, pretending to hold the clipboard in front of Ren. “Have a nice day, mam.”

“You too mail-lady. Way to show the world what the physically handicapped are capable of.”

Cardin got handed to Yang. He wasn’t sure which set of arms were more dangerous for him.

“So, this is awkward,” she said, once Nora closed the door. “Mind if I set you on my bed?”

“Sure. Where’s Ruby?”

“Out walking Zwei. Why, did you want to talk to her?”

“Yeah. I wanted to know more about what happened in there, especially about Neo.”

Yang scowled. “That bitch. I couldn’t get a single hit on her. She was playing with me. Just as I think she was about to kill me, Torchwick called her. She ran to the front of the train, saw him, well, you know, and went ballistic. Blake ran to the top of the train, and Ruby got dragged into it. I tried to catch up with her, but the train cars split up, and Weiss and I got left with the front end.” She crossed her arms. “She’s probably dead anyways, since she got stuck with the Grimm.”

“Maybe not. She could’ve escaped out one of the holes the Dust explosions made.”

“Yeah, true. That’s how Oobleck made it back. Anyways, that’s about all we know about her. Is that enough?”

Cardin blinked at the news that Oobleck had made it out, but he forced himself back to the topic at hand. “I was hoping to get an idea of her Semblance.”

Yang shrugged. “We talked about it. Something with glass, maybe, since copies of her kept shattering when we hit them. Kind of like Blake’s Semblance.”

Cardin fought back a yawn and struggled to make another point. “Knowing more about her weapon would also help.” His head felt fuzzy, and he still had trouble breathing. “It might track down where she came from, and who is supplying her.”

“Yeah, Ruby would know about that. Just wait here, she’ll be just another minute.”

After a short while, they heard Ruby shouting on the other side of the wall. She fumbled at the door handle, and after a few attempts, the door opened. Ruby had a thick, black cloth tied over her eyes, and she held a leash in both hands. At the other end was a gray and white corgi that made a beeline for Yang and licked at her face.

“No, Zwei, you’re supposed to be my seeing-eye dog!”

“You could always use the cane,” Yang suggested.

“How am I supposed to use a cane when I need both hands for Zwei?”

Yang shrugged, a gesture that Ruby failed to see. With a huff, Ruby sat down on the bed, right on top of Cardin. He let out another wheeze as his diaphragm was crushed yet again. Ruby leapt from the bed with a high-pitched yelp, and Zwei ran around the room barking. Within seconds, the leash was tangled around Ruby, and when she tried to step back, she fell and hit the floor with a thud.

“Ow, what the heck was that?” Ruby asked.

“That was Cardin,” Yang said. “He wanted to ask a few questions about Mount Glenn. Was there anything unusual about Neo’s umbrella?”

That started a ten-minute torrent of information, from the possible alloys used in the construction of her parasol fabric to make it bullet and cut resistant, to the engineering of the parasol’s framework, most likely Valean but could be anywhere, and an in-depth analysis of how she wielded it and what counter-play could be done to work around the weapon’s unique defensive capabilities. Blake and Ruby, remembering the open area further back on the tracks, retreated there to attack her from all sides. After a few minutes of fighting with more room to maneuver, the Grimm had swarmed them all.

“What happened to all those Grimm?” Cardin asked the moment Ruby left just enough space in her lecture to get a word in edge-wise. “It looked like Earth Dust, but Blake said there wasn’t a train car there.”

“Yeah, the train was already long gone,” Ruby said. “I dunno, it was the weirdest thing. I saw a King Taijitu lunge at Blake, I panicked and tried to warn her, then there was this pounding pain in my head, my eyes started burning, like, really bad, and a bright light blinded me.” She reddened. “It was probably when the rocks hit me. It all went dark after that, and, well, I woke up here.” She rubbed at the blindfold. “My eyes still feel hot, it’s driving me crazy.”

There was a knock at the door. Yang went to open it, and Emerald looked past her at Cardin. “Cinder was hoping to talk to you,” she said.

Cardin grunted and rolled to his feet. He took a few deep, painful breaths, and crossed the room. “Lead the way,” he told Emerald. To Yang, he said, “Thanks for letting me rest a bit. See ya later.”

Each step made his gut twinge in pain, but Cardin focused on what he had heard from Ruby. None of it added up, no Dust car, nothing to petrify the Grimm or cause the rock slide, and the two people who were there had no idea what had happened.

Before he could get his thoughts in order, they had arrived at the transfer student dorms. Emerald waited next to Cinder’s door, watching him. With a deep breath, crushing the urge to grunt at the pain, Cardin reached for the door knob, and turned.


	22. Weighty Matters

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This week’s been a long one for me, and this weekend’s only going to be worse, since I have to work both days. At least I have off four days next weekend. As far as life goes, I’ve stumbled upon a curry recipe that completely blew me away when I made it. It’s a fair bit of effort, taking about two to three hours all told, but well worth the effort, doubly so since it’s still amazing as leftovers.

\----------

Beta: HybridAlabaster

Mercury lounged back on one bed, smiling at Cardin as he entered. Emerald stepped around him and sat next to Cinder, watching him without expression. Cinder gestured to the unoccupied bed at the other end of the room. He tried to sit casually, but a twinge of pain made him grab his stomach.

“Still recovering from your field trip under the city, I see,” Cinder said. “You were very fortunate to make it out of there alive.”

“And a little less fortunate when the arrow that saved me also cut Blake’s bow.”

Cinder’s smile widened a touch. “Ah yes, how unfortunate indeed. The Dukes were chomping at the bit to slander her and further tarnish Ozpin’s record.”

“I take it that you’ve been helping me out with that?”

“Yes indeed.” She leaned back on her bed, lifting a leg to tease him with her skirt. “Isn’t that what friends are for?”

“And as a friend, you want me to keep helping you with your missing item, correct?”

“Quite.” Her smile vanished, and she crossed her legs. “It is vital that it be found before the Vytal Festival.”

“You plan to use the distraction to take it back?”

She flinched, and her eyes hardened. “That’s a possibility. Do you think Ozpin would see through it?”

Cardin swallowed. A wrong move here, and Cinder would give him that gentle little push that would send him over the edge. “That would depend on whether or not you made him aware of your presence. If he knows someone’s coming to steal it, he would naturally bolster his defenses.” He thought for a moment, and added, “He may use the festival’s security as an excuse to give it more protection. Perhaps if you saw defenses that looked out of place, it would give you a clue. “

Cinder gave him an approving nod. “I could arrange it so Ozpin has permission to move Huntsmen into the city.”

“Give that as an excuse to delay the Vytal Festival,” Cardin said. “A month to move Atlesian forces to the outskirts and bring in Huntsmen would give us a month to study the patrols and make a plan.”

“It also gives Ozpin another month to find us.” Cinder flicked a strand of hair out of her eyes. “Not to mention, there’s a particular Huntsman that may recognize us. Ozpin would almost certainly call him back to Vale.”

“Would this Huntsman be one Ozpin trusts?”

“With everything,” Cinder said.

“Then that’s the one we watch. Depending on who they are, we could distract them and take what’s yours before Ozpin realizes what has happened.”

Cinder hummed tunelessly to herself. “And considering an unfortunate turn of events one of my underlings had suffered, it might be prudent to send Ironwood’s forces elsewhere. Great job Cardin, you have been very helpful.”

“It’s the least I can do, considering that you saved my life.”

“What are friends for?”

Emerald approached Cinder and bent to whisper in her ear. Cinder’s grin widened as she heard her words.

“Speaking of friends, it would appear that you’ve been having trouble with one of yours. Orange hair, big hammer, at a staggering deficit of marbles, does that ring a bell?”

“Nora?” Cardin asked. “I have her on a leash.”

“Really? It looked like the other way around. Of course, if you’re into that kind of thing, I won’t judge.” She gave a mirthless chuckle. “Ask nicely, and I might be willing to help you with that.”

“That won’t be necessary.”

“If you say so.” She sat up and leaned forward, letting him see down her uniform. “It would be a simple matter to have her removed altogether. All I’d need is the video you took of her sneaking into the kitchens, along with some statements from concerned students, and you’d have one less problem on your hands.” She pretended to do some math on her fingers. “If I’m calculating it right, that would equal zero problems.”

He almost took her up on it right then and there, but another spasm in his gut forced him to take a few breaths. As his lungs toiled to bring in another shipment of oxygen, his brain used its dwindling reserves to process the pros and cons of Cinder’s offer. While it would get rid of a persistent obstacle and help destabilize Pyrrha further, Glynda would invariably realize he had used his blackmail material, and the detentions would resume. Not to mention, if Yang put two and two together, he’d be back to square one with Team RWBY.

“I appreciate the offer, but you’ve done enough for me already.”

“It would be no trouble,” Cinder said. “If anything, I would take great pleasure in seeing her gone.”

“As much pleasure as you’d get in regaining your lost possession?”

One of Cinder’s eyebrows rose. “Are you suggesting the two are somehow connected?”

Cardin took as deep a breath as his bruised ribs would allow. “Not directly, no. However, what I’ve learned so far suggests that Team RWBY is connected with your lost possession.”

There was a gleam in her golden eyes as she took in his words. “You don’t say?”

“If Nora were to get expelled from the school, and it were discovered by them that I had a hand in it, none of them would be pleased.”

Cinder kneaded the blankets with her left hand. “If you’ve gotten this much information, then surely you have an idea of which one specifically bears this connection.”

Cardin knew the question as a test, but a poor one. Weiss had connections to the SDC that would likely compromise her, Blake was too independent and headstrong to make a good pawn, and though Yang was fierce, strong, and could be manipulated through her care for Ruby, that same care could make her ignore orders, and she was too quick to anger and reckless to be trusted.

“Ruby. Who else would it be?”

Cinder’s brows furrowed, and for a heart-stopping moment, Cardin wondered if he had somehow missed his guess. Then her face relaxed, and Cardin slowly let out the breath he had been holding.

“Yes, you’re right. She’s young, almost too young, but that means she can be molded. Not to mention, she aspires to be a hero. Ozpin would have an easy time with her.” She turned towards Emerald. “Redouble your efforts to befriend Ruby.” To Cardin, she said, “I would appreciate it if you kept an eye on her as well. Notify me immediately if she gets summoned by Ozpin.”

“Would you like to involve my other teammates as well?”

“No, it’s best kept between us.” She considered it for a moment. “Well, it shouldn’t hurt. Tell them as little as possible, and only use them if necessary. Understood?”

Cardin nodded and fought back a yawn. Cinder turned to Mercury and tapped his leg with her foot. “Be a dear and escort Cardin back to his room, would you?”

Mercury rolled onto his feet and stretched. “You got it, boss.” He held out a hand for Cardin and pulled him out of bed. Cardin grunted in pain, and Cinder glared at Mercury. He flinched as though he had been slapped.

“Sorry about that, it won’t happen again.”

As Mercury helped Cardin out the door, Cinder said, “It better not. I want him in one piece.”

As they walked across the campus grounds, Cardin leaned on Mercury’s shoulder. He was breathing more easily, but a dull throb made him lean forwards. The silence between them felt stifling, and Cardin couldn’t resist the urge to make conversation.

“So, what happened between you and Yang?”

He nearly slipped off Mercury’s shoulder when he came to a sudden stop. Mercury had his jaw clenched, and he looked at his feet.

“Sorry, bad question,” Cardin said. “No need to talk about it.”

Mercury took a deep breath and wrapped an arm around Cardin’s shoulders. Cardin fought back the urge to break away from his touch and accepted the extra support.

“I didn’t want to dance with her in the first place.”

“Any reason why?”

There was a long pause before Mercury finally answered. “My dad was a heavy drinker.”

Inwardly, Cardin groaned.

“Anytime he came home drunk, he’d yell at me and beat me,” Mercury said. “He’d have me train until I dropped and kick me as I lay in the dirt. One day, he went a little too far.” He looked down at his legs. “Let’s just say that what I lost is never coming back.”

“Your virginity?” Cardin asked, feeling sick to his stomach.

Mercury flushed, and his grip around Cardin’s shoulder slipped. “What? No, gross! Why the hell would you think that?”

Cardin chuckled weakly. “Well, you were really vague about it, so I thought-”

“Well, stop thinking. Let’s just get you back to your room so I can go pour bleach on my brain.”

They walked the rest of the way in silence. Once they made it to the dorms, Cardin put a hand on the door handle. “Sorry I made that so awkward. Don’t worry about me, I can make it up there.” He straightened and pushed Mercury’s hand aside. “I’m better now.”

Mercury walked a step behind him as he went up the stairs and watched him enter his room from the hall. Sky was in bed, poring over notes on his Scroll, while Russell sat cross-legged on the floor, filing down the sides of Sky’s freshly mended halberd. Gray lumps stood out from where the weapon had been welded back together.

“What did Ozpin want?” Russell asked without looking up from his work.

“More questions about Mount Glenn. They were looking into those Beetle Grimm.”

“I wish you had gotten a picture,” Sky said. “Goodwitch got one, but the lighting was awful.”

“I was a little busy running for my life. Plus, I had my hands full.”

“You could’ve left her behind,” Sky said with a teasing smile. Russell looked up and watched Cardin intently.

“Tempting. I might’ve done it if I’d gotten a peek at her ears before I made it out. And no, I still wouldn’t have stopped to take pictures.”

Sky shrugged and went back to his notes. “When do you think they’ll go public with this new Grimm? We were asked not to say anything about it, so I’m guessing they’re waiting to make a formal announcement.”

“They better do it before the Vytal Festival,” Russell said. “I know I’d be pissed if the restaurant I went to hid the fact they had roaches in the walls.”

“They might not say anything at all,” Cardin said. “Other nations would suggest that the Festival be moved to somewhere not crawling with an unknown species of Grimm.”

“But Ironwood already knows.”

“I’m betting he’s hanging that information over Ozpin,” Cardin said. “He could use it as an excuse to move more of Atlas’ military into Vale.”

Russell grunted. “Just what we need, more bots clacking around on the streets.”

“Well, I think they’re fascinating,” Sky said. “I’d love to know how they program their behavior.”

“No one asked you.” Russell brushed off some metal shavings with a rag. “Speaking of the Vytal Festival, how are the preparations going?”

“I just got word that the Festival will experience some unexpected delays.”

“Ozpin said it?”

“Cinder.”

Russell smiled. “Did she stop by your hospital bed, perhaps give you a good morning kiss?”

“I paid her a visit once I got out of bed.”

Shaking his head, Russell said, “You should take it easy. You only just got out of the hospital. Still, I have to respect that.”

“It wasn’t like that.”

“If you say so.”

Cardin sat in bed for the next hour, until his grumbling stomach forced him down to the cafeteria. Formal mealtimes had been discarded since so much of the campus had left, but a quick word with one of the cooks brought him some cold ham, a slice of cheese, raw broccoli and French onion dip, and a slice of toast. He tore through the plate and went back for seconds before he was satisfied.

With such a heavy meal weighing him down, Cardin felt his eyelids drooping, but when he rose from the table, he remembered his intent to ask Oobleck about his Semblance. With most students still out on their assignments and paperwork largely done for the year, now would be the best time to catch him.

The door to Oobleck’s office was open. He checked around the door and entered when he saw that the teacher was alone. Doctor Oobleck had four books in front of him, and one hand flitted across their pages. His thermos was in the other hand, and he frequently took a long swig from it.

Since the professor hadn’t seemed to notice him, Cardin knocked on the door. Oobleck looked up with a start.

“Goodness, Mr. Winchester, how long were you standing there?”

“Just a few seconds.” He came in and sat down on the chair. “If you don’t mind, I have some questions about my Semblance.”

Oobleck adjusted his glasses. “If there’s anything wrong with it, I’m afraid I’m the wrong doctor to ask.”

“I don’t think there’s anything wrong. It acted strange in Mount Glenn, before I even saw the beetles, and I’m trying to figure out why.”

Oobleck set bookmarks in the pages and swept his books aside. “Strange how?”

Cardin explained how the boulder had suddenly risen and fallen when he touched it. Once he was done, the professor asked question after clarifying question, whether he was still touching it when it started to fall, was he applying any upward force, what does he envision when he activates his Semblance. Once the questions were over, Oobleck folded his hands and rested his head on his fingers. He muttered to himself as he stared into the middle distance behind Cardin’s head. Abruptly, he stood up and went to the door.

“I have a theory, but I need some equipment to test it. Wait right there.”

Within a minute, Oobleck returned, holding a black plastic case. He tossed it on his desk and undid the latches. Inside was a ruler, a long, thick spring, and a series of weights. He attached two pounds to one end and handed the other to Cardin.

“Lift this without activating your Semblance.”

Cardin complied. The spring sagged underneath the weight, and Oobleck measured its length with the ruler. He snapped up a book and scribbled a number on the corner of a page.

“Now, with your Semblance. Concentrate on lifting it up.”

Cardin’s arm tingled as his Aura acted on the spring and weight. The load felt lighter, and the weight crept up the spring until it was nearly its original length. Oobleck smiled as he took a second measurement and wrote down that value.

“All lining up with my theory so far. Let’s try some more weights.”

He had Cardin go down the entire line of weights and wrote values for each of them. Once they were done, Oobleck tore out the written-on page corner and turned it for Cardin to see.

“An elastic material, such as this spring, expands and contracts linearly with the application of force, in accordance with Hooke’s law. To be specific, the force applied on an elastic material is equal to the spring constant multiplied by the distance the spring is stretched. This, of course, only works so far as the spring behaves as a perfectly elastic material. The equation breaks down if the spring is stretched too far, but for what we’ve been doing, it’s perfectly acceptable to assume the spring behaves in accordance with this law.”

Cardin reined in his impatience as he waited for the Professor to get to the point.

“I imagine that, at this point, you’re wondering how all this math applies to your Semblance. Well, it’s quite simple. All the stretching the spring does in this scenario is due to the downward force of the weight attached on the other end, which is itself the mass of the object times the gravitational constant. Any additional upward force you apply would go into moving the entire system upward. Therefore, if your Semblance, as we previously thought, allowed you to increase the force exerted by your arms, then the length of the spring would not change because the gravitational force and the spring constant would remain the same.”

“Wait, you’re saying my Semblance doesn’t make me stronger?”

“That appears to be the case.” Oobleck pointed with his pen at the figures. “In all instances we had measured, there was more than a tenfold reduction in the total displacement of the spring. Therefore, there can be only two explanations. The first, is that your Semblance reduces the spring constant, which would fail to explain the other applications of your Semblance, such as your ability to lift unreasonably heavy objects. The other, is that you are reducing the downward force exerted by the mass at the other end of the spring.”

“So, I make objects lighter?”

“Exactly. That would explain why Professor Goodwitch was able to lift the rock while you were touching it, and unable to lift it once your lost direct contact with it.”

Cardin studied the numbers and handed the page back to Oobleck. “If that’s the case, then wouldn’t my attacks be weaker while I’m using my Semblance?”

“Considering that the mass of your weapon would be reduced, most likely.” The professor frowned. “Oh. Now I see what you’re getting at.” He brought out his Scroll, and after some browsing, he found video footage of one of Cardin’s fights. He replayed a moment where one of Cardin’s swings smashed the stone at his feet.

“Knowing that your Semblance can make objects lighter,” Oobleck said, “I wonder if it can make them heavier too. Concentrate on forcing the spring downward, if you would.”

Cardin held up the spring and imagined himself pushing it down. The weight trembled and sank to the floor, stretching the spring until it looked ready to snap.

Oobleck turned the ruler end over end until he measured the extended spring’s length and scribbled the number in minute writing next to other values. “Let’s do the rest, shall we? I think that weight was a bit heavy for our spring.”

Only the three lightest weights kept from hitting the floor. Oobleck measured those and discarded the other values. “As I thought. You can increase and decrease mass.” After reflection, he added, “Or the gravitational constant. That’s tricky, we need a way of taking gravity out of our measurements of mass.” He browsed through his Scroll and held it up in front of Cardin. “Deactivate your Semblance and jerk the spring upward. Then make it lighter and do the same thing, in as similar a motion as possible.”

Cardin complied, and after a few takes, the professor compared the two videos.

“I’m comparing the spring’s change in length as it is accelerated upward. The additional stretching would be independent of the gravitational constant. Long story short, I’m pretty sure it’s mass, but I’d need a more refined setup to make sure.”

Cardin set the spring down on the desk. “I really appreciate your help with this. I would’ve never figured it out on my own.”

“It was nothing, Mr. Winchester, I was happy to help. I can’t believe no one figured this out until now.” He typed on his Scroll and muttered, “I’ll have to amend the school records.”

Cardin reached across the desk and put one hand over Oobleck’s Scroll. “Why don’t we keep this between ourselves?” he asked.

“Why on Remnant would we do that?”

“Well, let’s just say that people have access to those records, people who would be competing in the Vytal Festival. It might be to my advantage if people have the wrong idea about how my Semblance works.”

The professor mulled it over as he emptied his thermos. With a troubled sigh, he put his Scroll away and brought out his books.

“I think I’m quite distracted by all this research the Headmaster had asked me to do on this new Grimm we’ve found. I may forget to add a certain new detail about a student’s Semblance to the records.” With a shy smile, he added, “No one would think anything of it, with the way I rush through everything.”

“Good doing business with you. I’ll let you get back to your Grimm research.”

He was halfway back to his bed when he was ambushed in a hallway by Yang. She had a stony expression, and her crossed arms said he wouldn’t be passing her with a mace in his hands.

“We need to talk,” she said. “I stopped by your room earlier, and they said you went to lunch.”

“I got a bit sidetracked on the way back from that.”

“I noticed.” She gestured to an empty classroom. Cardin looked inside, making sure no one else was waiting to jump him, before entering. He sat in one of the desks, and Yang leaned against another.

“You weren’t really interested in Neo,” Yang said. “You were more interested in the Grimm statues.”

Cardin could hardly deny it. He nodded, expecting to see Yang smile at that, but her expression remained grim.

“We were discussing it earlier, and none of us really has an idea of what happened. I think Ozpin does. And you.”

Cardin shrugged. Inside, he felt his stomach churning. Depending on how he played his cards, he could either give away too much and cost himself whatever Cinder wanted with Ruby, or get a valuable source of information. “I don’t have much of an idea myself. But you’re right, Ozpin is hiding something. When I mentioned it to Ironwood and Ozpin, our Headmaster covered up the details. We all know it wasn’t just a Dust explosion, but that’s what he told Ironwood.”

Yang pounded her fist on the table. “Damn it. For all I know, Ruby might be blind for the rest of her life, and Ozpin’s keeping secrets from us? Shouldn’t we know what’s going on?”

“It might be for her sake.” Cardin took a deep breath and stared at Yang. Her eyes had a red tinge as they stared back at him. “If it’s what I think it is, there’s a lot of people who would want their hands on her.”

“You think she turned all those Grimm to stone.”

Cardin held up a finger in front of him. “Be careful who you say that around. If other nations caught wind of someone with a Grimm insta-kill Semblance, things would get ugly.”

“But her Semblance is speed-”

“Which makes what happened all the more confusing.”

“Yeah, I know. So, what do we do?”

“We?”

“Yeah, we.” Yang walked over to him and put both hands on his desk. “I don’t know what’s happening with Ruby, but I do know that if anyone’s going to get that secret out of Ozpin, it’s you. So, help me out with this, and I’ll do you a favor.”

When Cardin opened his mouth, Yang quickly added, “Nothing too messed up. Make it reasonable.”

Cardin nodded. “I’ll need to know what’s going on with Ruby. Keep me updated on how she’s doing, and call me if she gets summoned by Ozpin.”

“Got it. Hand over your Scroll.”

A few flicks of her finger later, Yang had added her number under ‘Blonde Bombshel.’

“Not enough room for another ‘l’,” she muttered angrily, “But whatever.”

While she wasn’t looking, Cardin changed it to a less flattering B-word that fit in the character limit.

“That’s not the favor, by the way,” Cardin said. “That’s what I need to help you out.”

“Yeah, I got that much. If I thought you were stalking Ruby, I’d break your nose so hard it’d poke out the back of your head.”

“Noted. So, on to my favor.” He thought back to how Yang and Nora interacted when she had carried him in. “Would you say you’re friends with Nora?”

“I guess? She’s crazy, but pretty fun.”

“Any chance you could talk her into not breaking my kneecaps?”

Yang winced. “That’ll be tough. She really has it out for you. There’s this conspiracy theory she has where you forced Jaune and Blake to start dating each other, among other things.”

Cardin put on his best neutral face and studied his hands. “She comes up with the craziest ideas, doesn’t she?”

Yang stared at him with visible incredulity. “You didn’t.”

“What, Blake didn’t tell you? You said she told you everything.”

“Well, she clearly didn’t!” She slammed her hands in front of him, making him jump. “Just when I think there was the tiniest chance you could be cool, I find out you forced the most awkward couple together for your own twisted amusement.”

“Hey, at least they hit it off.”

Yang grunted and stormed out of the room. Before she vanished, Cardin called after her. “Is the deal still on?”

She stopped at the doorway, with just her hair still visible. “Against my better judgement, yes. I’ll text when I get something.”

Her footsteps receded down the hall, but a moment later, she came back and poked her head in the room. “One more question. You aren’t plotting with an army of squirrels to take over Remnant, are you?”

“Wait, what?”

Yang grinned. “Didn’t think so. See ya.”


	23. A Bargain Struck

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anyone else thinking that Cardin hasn’t been all that evil lately? I think it’s high time to fix that.
> 
> Before that, a quick glimpse into my wonderful little life. I spent ten days in a row working, and just got off for a four day weekend. I made two cakes, both of which turned out excellent, took a couple trips to see family for the holiday, and took a crack at my enormous backlog of videogames. I was nearly late to work one day because a street I like to take got closed for construction and I had to take a ten minute detour. In short, I’m really glad I finally get some time off.
> 
> As far as omakes go, I haven’t felt like writing one in a while. Life’s been a bit crazy, and I’ve had my hands full keeping this on a weekly schedule as is. If the mood strikes me again, I’ll give it another shot, but for now, no omakes.
> 
> Also, unfortunately, HybridAlabaster has gone awol. I haven’t heard from them for a while, so until I get something from them, they will not be credited for these chapters.

**\----------**

In the wake of the Breach, as the media called the White Fang attack that blew a hole into Mount Glenn, every assignment was recalled from the field. The school felt crowded as the combined mass of Beacon students and transfer teams arrived on Bullhead after Bullhead. Within two days, the dorm rooms were noisy, and the cafeteria bustled at every mealtime.

A day after the last team had arrived, they were all called into the auditorium. It took fifteen minutes to seat every student and another five for the room to quiet down enough for Professor Goodwitch to make herself heard.

“Students, I have some unfortunate news for all of you.” Professor Goodwitch stood with her hands behind her back and the riding crop in her pocket. “Due to the recent White Fang attack, it was decided to move some of Vale’s Huntsmen back into the capital and relocate some of Atlas’ military to relieve them. The hope is that our professionally trained Huntsmen will have better luck gathering intelligence on the White Fang through local sources.”

She left out the other reasons, such as the enormous public backlash after the news leaked that the White Fang had stolen Atlesian Paladins for the attack, never mind they were all fried before they had arrived.

“The Council has also decided to delay the Vytal Festival for one month.”

That announcement was met with an immediate barrage of boos and jeers. Goodwitch took out her baton and cracked it in the air with a resounding snap, silencing the students.

“I can understand your frustration on this matter, and you are not alone in disapproving of this idea. However, the Council did not feel comfortable holding the Festival when it is such an obvious target for the White Fang. Therefore, they’re giving one month for the Huntsmen coming into Vale to set up patrols, gather information, and crack down on the White Fang.”

Professor Goodwitch waved her baton, and a hard-light Dust display blinked on above her.

“In the meantime, we’ve decided to give you three extracurricular options to make up for the aborted assignments. For your first option, several Huntsmen have agreed to allow some of the higher-year students to shadow them during their patrols. Some will be clearing Grimm out from around Mount Glenn, while others will be investigating the White Fang. If you wish to shadow any of these Huntsmen, notify me, and I will send them your transcript.”

As she spoke, a list of Huntsmen came up on the display, along with their weapon specialty and their assigned duty.

“Your second option is to take a series of team-based training exercises hosted by most of Beacon’s staff. There will be strong emphasis on team vs team combat, which should help you prepare for the early rounds of the Vytal Festival.”

Cardin saw a lot of students perk up in their seats and wondered if he could get footage of those exercises. If those fools wanted to flaunt their strategies, he would be more than willing to take notes.

“For those of you who don’t have a Huntsman to shadow and don’t have a full team for the exercises, you may partner up with a student not on your team for sparring practice. You may trade partners at any point through the next month. I will be overseeing the spars in the courtyard and offering general advice.”

The display blinked out, and Professor Goodwitch checked her Scroll. “Each of you should have received an email with more information and instructions on how to apply for any of these courses. You have three days to make your decision before it is made for you. Any questions?”

There were a few about shadowing Huntsmen, which the professor answered, before the students filed out. In the bustle of students, he spotted Weiss’ white dress and drifted towards it. He spotted Blake as he got closer and shoved through the crowd until he was at her shoulder.

“How’s your leg doing?” he asked.

She pulled up her skirt a touch so he could have a look at her cast. The bruising had vanished, but it was still swollen around the kneecap.

“Still mending, no thanks to you. How the heck did you drop it?”

“It slipped. You’re welcome by the way.”

She blushed and looked away. She chewed her lip, as if debating whether or not to say anything, but as the crowd pushed them towards the door, Cardin broke the silence.

“You’re going to train with Jaune, right?”

“Ozpin already gave me my assignment. I’ll be shadowing one of the Huntsmen coming back in and helping him with his investigation.”

“As part of being one of his agents, I see.” Blake shot a glare at him, and he grinned back. “No one’s going to hear a thing in a crowd like this, so long as you’re quiet.”

“Is it going to be a problem?”

“No. Just keep me posted.” After a moment’s thought, he added, “Let me know if he’s protecting anything specific, doubly so if it seems unusual.”

Blake nodded. “What about you?”

“Definitely not the team exercises.” He let his face twist up. “The thought of being with Oobleck and Port any longer than necessary makes me want to split my skull open.”

She smiled at that. “So, pairing up with Cinder then?”

Cardin looked around the crowd, but there was no sign of Emerald or Mercury tailing him. “I’d rather not,” he said. “Our fighting styles are too different for me to learn anything.”

She frowned at that, but if she suspected anything, she didn’t say it. “Do you intend to shadow a Huntsman then?”

“I’ve had enough of being at the beck and call of a Huntsman.” He rubbed his shoulders and said, “I’m still sore from carrying a full pack all over the city.”

Blake snorted. “If you think that’s bad, try sprinting through a city with said pack on your back, trying to keep up with Oobleck as he analyzes every pebble in the ruins. Oh, and all the while fighting off the hordes of Grimm he attracts with all his shouting.”

With a quick glance, he saw Ren and Nora walking together towards the exit. He said goodbye to Blake and shoved his way towards them. When he caught up to them, he walked up Ren’s left, watching Nora all the while.

“Mind if we have a word, Ren?”

Ren frowned at him and glanced at Nora. “We’re a little busy right now. Could you wait until later?”

Cardin pitched his voice higher and said, “Is that a squirrel over there?”

Nora got out her hammer. “A squirrel? Where?”

“I think I just saw it go around a corner. It looked like it was plotting something nefarious.”

Nora gasped. “It must be planning to make the Vytal Festival happen even later! That monster!” She rushed through the crowd, knocking everyone in front of her aside, and pulled out her hammer. “Come here so I can flatten you, you stupid evil squirrel!”

Cardin smiled at Ren. “Are you free now?”

Ren sighed and walked with him to the dorms. Once they were on the rooftop, Ren leaned against the wall. He listened impassively as Cardin asked about Pyrrha.

“She’s been getting better,” Ren said. “She’ll still run to the bathroom the moment she sees Jaune and Blake together, but she’s eating more, and she’s caught up on her homework.”

“Jaune hasn’t figured out a thing?”

Ren shook his head. “He can be unbelievably dense.”

Cardin paced across the rooftop. He considered options for putting more pressure on Pyrrha, but there was only so much he could do with Jaune before she would move on.

“What about Nora?” Cardin asked. “You hardly stop her from smashing my ribs in last time.”

“She still hates you for what you’re doing to Pyrrha. Don’t expect that to change because you rescued Ruby.”

“You’re not helping me much, Ren. I hope I won’t have to make good on my threat.”

“Then perhaps there’s something else I can do for you?”

Cardin walked around the perimeter of the building, looking down for open windows, and checked the door in the stairwell to be sure. As an added precaution, he stepped close to Ren and kept his voice low.

“Cinder wished to get rid of Nora,” Cardin said. “She also intends to see Pyrrha cut from the tournament, but unlike me, she’s going after her teammates.”

Ren’s eyes narrowed. “You didn’t tell her about Jaune, did you?”

“I could, but so far, I haven’t.”

“So, I’m guessing you want a different favor in return for keeping your girlfriend from going after Nora?”

Ren’s face gave away nothing about how he felt. Cardin glanced around the top of the building, wondering if Cinder had someone watching him even now. “I need someone to spy on her.”

“My Semblance hides me from Grimm, not people.”

“You’re quieter than most, and harder to notice. I’ll take anything you can learn about what she wants to accomplish here.”

“You’re not having your teammates spy on her because you can’t risk her learning that you’re trying to spy on her.”

Cardin nodded uneasily.

“So, you need me to do it, because if I’m caught, it’s less likely she’ll connect the dots.”

“I’ll make it worth your while.”

“Or,” Ren said, without a smile, “I could tell her you asked me to spy on her.”

Cardin felt his blood freeze. “You could. And I could tip Professor Goodwitch off about who was stealing from the kitchens.”

“They already know. They gave Nora all the food she could eat, and the raids stopped. If she was going to be punished for it, they would’ve done it already.”

“Then I suppose I’ll have to talk to Cinder first.”

“And what?” Ren asked. “I can hardly see why she would have any interest in Nora.”

Cardin floundered for another way to keep Ren under his thumb, but he realized he had blundered. He took a deep breath and asked, “What now?”

Ren opened the door. “We’re done here. I don’t really care what you do with Jaune or Pyrrha, but if you do anything to me or Nora, I’ll make you pay for it. Understood?”

“I got it.”

Cardin glowered at the door as it quietly clicked shut. He sat down on the roof and stared out over the campus. Blake would be away on a mission with a Huntsman, something he could scarcely stop, and he had lost his hold over Ren. He couldn’t let the matter be, not with Cinder waiting for weaknesses to exploit. She might demand concessions in exchange for helping him remove Pyrrha, and he would be in no position to refuse. So, that left either Jaune or Pyrrha, and the thorny question of how to approach either one.

When he knocked on Team JNPR’s door, Ren was the one to answer. His expression gave no hint of the conversation they had ten minutes ago.

“Are Jaune or Pyrrha here?” Cardin asked.

“Jaune’s packing, and Pyrrha went to the library.” He glanced back in the room. “And Nora’s still chasing that squirrel you didn’t see. Do you want to come in, or should I tell him you’re here?”

“I’ll come in, if you don’t mind.”

Ren opened the door a hair wider. Cardin twisted so he’d fit through and shut the door behind him. He took the room in with a glance, noting the stack of comics next to Jaune’s bed, a stack of empty snack boxes, a pair of binoculars, and a giant sloth pillow in Nora’s corner, and a veritable mountain of books, papers, and tissue boxes by Pyrrha’s spot. Ren’s area appeared as vacant as his personality, pristine, with clothes neatly folded and tucked in the dresser and nothing else, but at a second glance, he saw jars of spices and a plastic tub of flour hidden under the bed, tucked behind the covers.

Jaune had his back to him, cramming clothes and camping supplies into a backpack bursting at the zippers. He turned around to grab a comic, stared at the cover, and set it tenderly back on top of the pile. As he turned back to his packing, he finally noticed Cardin. He stiffened and whirled to face him.

“What are you doing in here?”

There was plenty of irritation in his voice, but tinged by panic and stress, and lacking the heat of anger. He could only think of one way he could continue the conversation, but it would involve him swallowing a great deal of his pride.

“I hadn’t gotten the chance to thank you for saving my life. So, thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Jaune snapped. He went back to cramming items in his backpack. He stuffed a can of bug repellant and a lighter before he sighed and turned back around. “Sorry about that. You were trying to be nice, at least I think you were, and what I just said was rude, and I mean, I’m under a lot of stress right now, and I, uh, you’re welcome.” Jaune’s eyes wouldn’t meet his and kept straying to the mess of gear around him.

“Are you going somewhere?” Cardin asked.

“Oh. That. Yes, well, it’s for that whole assignment thingy Goodwitch talked about. You know.” He chuckled nervously. “Just getting packed.”

Cardin crossed his arms and made an eyebrow rise. Jaune glanced nervously at him, and after a moment, he sighed.

“You know how I, you know…” He trailed off and looked at the shut door. With a hand cupped to his mouth, he whispered, “Snuck in here.”

Cardin nodded. “Did Ozpin find out?”

Jaune went pale, but he shook his head. “I don’t think so. Well, it’s worse anyways. You see, I didn’t exactly tell my family I’d be coming here, and well, when the Huntsmen got called to Beacon, my dad was one of those who came here, and he found out I was on the school’s roster and had Ozpin assign me to him.”

“Is he taking you home?” Cardin asked.

Jaune’s voice dripped with despair. “Maybe. He never wanted me to be a Huntsman, no matter how many times I asked. He said I didn’t have what it takes, that I’d just get myself killed out there.” He chuckled weakly. “He was right. I should’ve died already. If it wasn’t for Blake, I’d be Grimm food.”

“You’ve gotten a bit better since then.”

“Yeah, thanks to Blake again. She’s been showing me as much as she could, but I know I still suck.”

“You’re not using your shield. Honestly, the way you fight, maybe you should ditch it.”

Jaune snorted. “Yeah, and get shot at by everyone with a gun. No shield and no gun means I can’t do anything if I’m not two feet away from my opponent.”

“Then get a gun.”

“I’d rather use the shield. It’d take too long for me to learn how to aim, not to mention my sword’s sheath is the shield. Doesn’t make sense to carry it around and not use it.”

Cardin shrugged. “I’ll let you get back to your packing. Good luck.”

“Yeah,” Jaune mumbled mournfully, “Thanks.” He gave a wry smile. “And you’re welcome for that whole Forever Fall thing.”

Cardin was halfway out the door, but a question stopped him. “Why did you save me anyways?” It was a question he realized had been niggling at him. Even Blake hadn’t lifted a finger to save his life, despite being so opposed to the idea of killing him, and he had arguably treated Jaune worse.

“Because I couldn’t watch someone die when I could do something.” Jaune’s voice was hollow and flat. “Not even you.” His face twisted as silence fell on the room. “I’m going to keep packing.”

Ren closed the door once Cardin was out. He strolled aimlessly through the dorm halls for a while, mulling over the conversation. Jaune getting dragged home by his father might push Pyrrha over the edge, but it could just as easily let her move on, and Cinder could easily point out the frailty of a plan that involved waiting for something to happen.

Nora was out of the question, Ren was out from under his thumb, and Jaune was preoccupied with family issues. That left him the human equivalent of a time bomb wired by a colorblind drunkard.

As he made his way to the library, he weighed his options. Doing nothing was safer, but allowed Cinder to pressure him, while any other option had the potential to backfire and force him to ask Cinder for help.

Despite months of looking into the matter, he still had no idea why she came to Beacon. For all her inability to hide her feelings for Jaune, all other emotions were on careful lockdown behind the serene, empty smile of the champion, just as glossy and flat as the representations or her on tabloids and on Pumpkin Pete’s boxes. She hardly talked, spent most her time in her room, and a quick check on her Scroll records showed that she had never called or texted anyone since she had arrived at Beacon.

All he knew, all he could rely on, was her irrational attachment to Jaune Arc.

Pyrrha sat between two stacks of books, writing in quick, neat strokes. She looked up when Cardin sat down across from her.

“I’m busy,” she said.

“I imagine. That looks like a whole year’s worth of courses you’re trying to catch up on.”

“Yes, it is.” Her voice had a tinge of irritation. “And if you don’t mind, I would really appreciate it if you would let me get back to my work.”

“I will, in just a minute. I wanted a quick chat with you.”

She took a book off the top of a pile and propped it up in front of her. Hidden behind the book, she went back to her writing. Cardin crossed his arms and waited. The writing continued for a minute. Then two.

He took out his Scroll, searched through his list of recordings, and found the one labeled “Jaune FT”. He hit play and turned down the volume so only Pyrrha would hear Jaune’s anguished shouts.

She lowered the book. Her knuckles were white from clutching the pen, and her jaw looked hard enough to crush stone. “What do you want?”

“I want you out of the Vytal Festival.”

He held his breath as he watched emotions battle across Pyrrha’s face. His chest fluttered as he thought he had finally done it, finally broken her, finally established a network of favors and alliances that would shield his family through to his adulthood. Just a single word.

A few minutes went by as she buried her face in her hands, crushed her pen until it creaked, shoved her books away from her, and read something on her Scroll. Cardin could nearly taste victory, see the fractures in her psyche left from months of pining after the human equivalent of a brick wall, hear the thoughts simmering in her head.

Pyrrha shoved her Scroll in her pocket and looked up at him. There were tears in her eyes.

“I can’t do that,” she said in a dim voice. “I have sponsors, and obligations to them. They will not be pleased if I drop out of the festival.”

Despite the rejection, he could feel her resolve wavering. He pressed onward. “If you can’t drop out, then take a loss. If you ever face off against me, make sure you lose.”

“You want me to throw a match in the Vytal Festival? Unbelievable.”

“So, that’s a no?”

“Of course it is! Throwing a match in the Vytal Festival is a punishable offense, I could get kicked out of Beacon.”

“Only if they found out.”

“Which they would after they review the match footage.” She gave him a level glare and wiped the tears from her eyes. “There’s no way they wouldn’t look into it after I lose.”

He could sense that he was losing her. Her arguments were gaining momentum, despite everything she stood to lose. For reasons he couldn’t understand, she wasn’t taking the bait.

Perhaps he needed a tastier lure.

“I could sweeten the deal for you.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Don’t think a bribe is going to convince me.”

“This one might. I can give you a chance at Jaune.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, you can’t exactly ask him out on a date when he’s already with Blake. I could fix that little problem.”

In a low, sharp whisper, she asked, “Are you saying you’d break them apart?”

“It’d be the easiest thing in the world.” Cardin smiled and leaned forward. “Let me tell you a little secret. They only started dating because I made them.”

Pyrrha’s eyes widened, and she recoiled in her seat. Her face went pale, and her lips trembled as she struggled to say anything. “What – what do you mean?”

“You remember how I had Jaune carrying books for me and all that? I was blackmailing him with that fake transcript of his. Well, one of the things I had him do was ask Blake out on a date.”

Pyrrha didn’t say a word, but her chest trembled, and her breath whistled through her nose.

“As for Blake, I knew her little secret,” he said, pantomiming the ears. “I’ve been blackmailing her with that too. Before I had Jaune ask her out, I told her to say yes. And the rest is history. I hadn’t expected them to hit it off so well, but hey, so much the better for my plan.”

“And what exactly was this plan of yours?” she growled. “Why did you do all of that?”

“Because of you.” He paused to watch his words sink in. “I mean to win the Vytal Festival. I have ways of beating anyone else, but there’s no trick or gimmick I could use to win against you. So, I decided to defeat you before the tournament began. It was painfully obvious how head over heels you were over Jaune, and to be honest, I have no idea what you or Blake see in him, but I figured giving him a girlfriend would be the best way to make you emotionally unstable.” He gestured at the tears on the table. “Worked like a charm.”

Pyrrha blinked, struggling to hold back tears. “So, what, you’re going to tell Blake to break up with him?”

“I could do that, but I have a better idea. Imagine if I told Jaune that, this whole time, Blake only dated him because I made her, and she never had the guts to tell him the truth. After a heated argument between them, Jaune’s going to have his heart broken, and who better to console him and help him move on than his partner? Give it a couple weeks, then take him out to dinner somewhere, some sort of friendly outing to give him some fresh air. Hold his hand a bit, give him a couple compliments, and maybe a few weeks after that, he’ll be ready for a kiss. Give him two months, and he won’t even look at Blake.” He spread out his arms. “Well? How does that sound?”

Pyrrha’s face slowly crumpled. As the tears poured down her face, she buried her head in her arms and sobbed into the table. Cardin leaned back and watched her cry for a solid five minutes before impatience got the better of him.

“I don’t have all day, Pyrrha. Keep this up and you’ll ruin every book in the library.”

Pyrrha sniffled and raised her head. Her eyes were bloodshot, and her face was streaked with tears. “Fine,” she said. “I’ll do it.”

Cardin’s heart leapt in his chest, but he kept his face impassive. “Good. Here’s what we’re going to do. You had a good point about the match review, so we have to make sure people won’t question a loss. We’ll be partners in the sparring practice, where you’ll help me learn everything I can about your fighting style and you’ll critique my moves. Once that’s done and we get into seeding for the tournament, I’ll challenge you, and you will lose.”

He stood up and walked over to her side. “You better lose, or I’ll make sure you never see Jaune again.”


	24. Pride

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’ve been waiting all week to post this chapter. I’ve also got the next one well down the pipeline, but sadly, I’m working both days this weekend. I’ll have time to work on it, but it would’ve been nice to have a day to unwind.

**\----------**

Over the course of the next three weeks, Cardin’s life became a tumult of grueling training sessions, digital mountains of Beacon records and student transcripts, and constant glances over his shoulder for signs of Emerald or Mercury. A search through all of Haven’s records gave him not a single clue of Team CMEN’s Semblances, fighting styles, or even the identity of their fourth fighter, and a torturous read-through of Beacon’s paperwork, including the patrol routes submitted by Oobleck, showed no signs of Cinder’s coveted prize.

In their training sessions, Pyrrha seemed determined to make him fight until he dropped dead. She called out feints, parries, and sidesteps in rapid succession, forcing him to move to her pace or get jabbed in the ribs with her sword. Within an hour of sparring with her, sweat made his shirt heavy as chainmail and his breaths came in sputtering gasps. After four, and three flights of stairs to his room, most times he took Dove’s bed, as he didn’t have the energy to walk another ten feet.

He tried holding back at first, but she saw the weakness behind his blows and pummeled him with her shield. Now he only held back his Semblance, putting all his strength behind each swuing. During each of their spars, the courtyard rang with the resonant clashes of mace on shield, drowning out the sounds of other practice pairs.

Over the course of the weeks, Cardin had sought cracks in her armor, flaws in her technique, but each of her movements were polished, aggression and defense in perfect balance, each thrust allowing her to dart back, each retreat evenly executed, allowing an easy punish on an overextended opponent. She could change between weapon types on a whim, pressing close with sword and shield, darting back and probing with the lance, firing off Dust rounds with the rifle when the opponent tried to retreat.

Over time, as his technique improved, he noticed that her weapon and shield seemed to move with a will of their own. Anytime Pyrrha was under pressure, the shield slid neatly into place and didn’t waver an inch under his heaviest of overhead blows, the sword wove intricate patterns faster than the eye could track them, slicing through air and Aura alike with perfect angles and straight lines. The more he sparred against her, the more he noticed the subconscious use of her Polarity.

For all his misgivings of her closed-off and irrational demeanor, her icy glares and dismissive stares, he had to admit she knew how to train him. He still came nowhere close to defeating her, but each day sharpened his reflexes, bolstered his endurance, and toughened his arms. He held his ground under the lighting onslaught of Miló and Akoúo̱ and found her blade tickling his throat less often. Occasionally, Pyrrha would remark that they might actually believe she could lose to him, but otherwise kept silent through their matches.

When he was alone at night, he practiced using his Semblance. Oobleck had suggested acquiring a spring and weights, concentrating of maximizing his output. Night by night, he found that he could make the heavier weights creep up a hair farther and the tinier weights sink closer to the floor. He also worked on rapidly changing his input, making the weight bounce up and down. At Oobleck’s direction, he also tried seeing how far his Semblance could reach, and through what medium. Once an object was an inch away from his hand, he could barely make it tremble on the spring, but if he tied a piece of twine to it and held the other end, he could force it to move from across his room. He repeated the test by spreading out more weights over his bed, seeing how much the force dispersed over a given area, and had to stop when the wooden framework creaked ominously under the combined, tenfold mass.

Beacon had grown quiet once again during the weeks of extracurricular activity. RWBY’s entire team was shadowing Huntsmen, as were the rest of Pyrrha’s teammates. Emerald had gone with one of the Huntsmen on patrols, while Mercury and Cinder lingered on campus, sparring half-heartedly with their partners and quietly observing the other groups. Even with their minimal effort, they kept their opponents, two students from Atlas, on the defensive. Russell and Sky found partners, but Dove took up patrols with a Huntsman. Sometimes, Cardin found himself looking around, wondering where Dove had gone, before catching himself.

Many other groups, hoping for an early edge in the competition, went with the other teachers on team combat drills. They stayed out until sundown and came back sweaty and exhausted. Cardin and Sky had tried setting up cameras, but the groups moved around day after day, and the forest was too huge for them to have complete surveillance. What little footage they had gave them nothing more than they already had from their student records.

Word had gone around that the Huntsmen had some small successes in curbing White Fang activity, a confiscated stash of Dust from a riverside warehouse, a disrupted rally held in a derelict movie theater, a couple dozen agents rounded up and thrown in cells, enough for the media to praise the fine efforts of its Huntsmen and preserve Vale’s credibility.

Word from the students shadowing them told a different story. Though the students were at first reluctant to relate how the patrols were going, over time, rumors spread through the school that information was scarce, and it seemed as though most of the White Fang had relocated outside of the capital, beyond the reach of the Huntsmen and out of sight of Atlas’ fractured forces.

As the month came to a close, the students were yet again corralled into the auditorium. This time, extra the hard-light monitors had lists of teams, broken down into their individual students, and space for Aura readings on the impending fights. Goodwitch explained the rules, the same used for the Festival, and asked for a volunteer to start them off. Half the hands in the room rose, and Cardin didn’t bother competing with them.

None of the matchups surprised him. The first couple went for easy pickings, making sure they didn’t end up being the first to lose. A first-year picked a fight with Coco Adel and got knocked around the arena, starting the more serious matches. Blades clashed with knives, clubs battered at shields, Dust rounds cracked the air as students traded shots until Goodwitch called one out of the match.

A few used their Semblance, primarily fighters like Ruby that relied on it, but most kept that up their sleeve. Cardin watched them, noting how they moved and where they had to held back an instinctive use of their hidden abilities.

When Yang hit the floor, she called down Mercury. Mercury didn’t seem to put in any effort at first, sidestepping all of Yang’s attacks without offering any of her own, but as Yang picked up the tempo, Mercury fought back, snapping kicks and firing shots from his boots. In the end, Yang got a clean shot at his jaw, and he flew out of bounds.

Once that match was over, Weiss challenged Cinder. Cardin had half-expected her to refuse, from the smug smile on her face, but Cinder accepted. Weiss danced and lunged around her, using Glyphs to zip around the platform at blinding speeds. Each thrust of her rapier was deflected by one of Cinder’s daggers, each of which broke under the impact. After several exchanges, Weiss put everything behind one glyph half the size of the room and shot like a bullet at Cinder. She ducked aside and raised a fist to punch her in the gut as she passed. Weiss’ momentum sent her spinning across the floor and flying off the platform with a sliver of Aura left.

Ruby ran up next and challenged Emerald. The green-haired girl’s smile seemed to curdle on her lips as she walked down and unsheathed her twin submachine pistols. The moment Goodwitch called a start to the match, Emerald opened fire with both guns, but Ruby vanished in a flash of rose petals. Air rippled in a mild shockwave as Ruby raced past the gunfire, swept her scythe under Emerald’s legs, and sent her flying into the stands. Ruby stopped, winced, and shouted “Sorry!” at the flattened spectators.

Team CMEN’s last member, Nelly Poltan, was nearly overlooked by Professor Goodwitch. When she skipped onto the stage, a gesture so cute that it made her diminutive stature borderline ludicrous, she pointed at Blake. As Blake came down, Cinder rose and walked down to the stage. Apologizing profusely, she asked Goodwitch to allow Nelly a little more rest, as she was still recovering from her bout of bronchitis. Nelly glared at her, but Goodwitch agreed to cancel the match.

With a nod from Cardin, each of his teammates went. He had instructed Dove and Russell to lose, but he hadn’t expected Sky to catch his opponent off-guard with a well-timed shot from his halberd, knocking a raised foot back and forcing the student off balance. With a single shove, Sky’s opponent fell out of the ring.

As the day wore on, Cardin sensed restlessness in the stands, from the way students shifted in their seats and watched the battles with glazed-over eyes. Even Cardin found himself stifling a yawn as battle after battle dragged on, made monotonous by the defensive play and strategies held back. He raised his hand and called Pyrrha Nikos down as his opponent.

The crowd immediately went on full alert. Nobody had dared challenge the champion, not when they had already pre-emptively seeded her at the top from her tournament results. People leaned forward, and a buzz of whispers filled the room.

Pyrrha walked down the stairs with a calm, composed frown and saluted her with her lance and shield. Cardin hefted his mace and waited for the match to begin.

With her shield raised, Pyrrha advanced, step by step, cautiously weaving back and forth with Cardin’s movements. He waited until she was just within range to raise his mace, activate his Semblance, and slam its full weight down at her. The shield, backed by her Polarity, intercepted the blow and held, but the contact from his mace let him affect her shield. Now ten times heavier, the shield dropped, and his mace slammed into her head. The ground splintered and cracked where the mace landed.

She winced and reeled back, staring at her shield in shock. Taking advantage of her disorientation, Cardin made his mace lighter and went in for a flurry of blows. Pyrrha shifted her lance to a sword and met each attack with both weapons, but she couldn’t keep up with his increased speed and took another blow in the ribs.

Pyrrha retreated even further, and Cardin hounded her footsteps, making sure she never got into rifle range. She kept her shield in front of her and watched his mace. He raised it again, as if going for the opening blow again, and she darted back. Keeping his mace low, he followed, and she re-engaged. His right hand swung the mace in a feint, while he grabbed her shield with his left. With his Semblance, he made the shield drop like a stone, forcing her to bend over with it. The feint became a weighted uppercut, smacking her in the jaw and forcing her to let go of the shield.

Pyrrha made a mad scramble across the stage and changed her weapon to a rifle. Dust rounds pinged off his armor and Aura as Cardin advanced with his mace held in front of his head. As he closed in, Pyrrha circled around, until she was within reach of her shield. Cardin didn’t bother trying to stop her from grabbing it, and he waited until her weapon reverted to go for another attack.

He made another feint, but Pyrrha watched him grab her shield. This time, she was ready when the extra weight kicked in, using her Semblance to hold it in place with a visible tightening of her jawline. However, before Cardin swung his mace, he switched his Semblance. Pyrrha’s shield, now a hundred times lighter and still acted upon by Pyrrha’s Semblance, flew out of her hands, clattered against the ceiling, and fell into the stands.

He didn’t give Pyrrha a chance to see where it landed, as he used Pyrrha’s backward momentum and absent shield to assault her with another barrage of lightweight attacks. Without her shield, Pyrrha was able to fend off far less, and took hits on her shoulders, thigh, and head.

As they separated to catch their breath, Cardin risked a glance at the hard-light display. His Semblance had dropped ten percent from Semblance usage, but Pyrrha was down to a yellow thirty-six.

The crowd was on the edge of their seats. As the pause in the action dragged on, Jaune stood up, cupped his hands, and shouted, “You can do it Pyrrha! Kick his butt!”

Pyrrha looked back at him, but as he stepped forward, her hand tightened on her weapon. He waited, but she made no other move.

Nora also rose and roared, “Break his legs!”

Ren’s voice was a low murmur, but the acoustics of the auditorium made it carry. “Nora, you really shouldn’t say that.”

“Oh, really? Then break only one of his legs!”

The shouts kicked up a low murmur in the crowd. Some had their Scrolls out, recording the fight, and others whispered commentary. By nightfall, there’d be thousands of hits on those videos, and by the end of the week, millions. But it was too easy so far. If Ozpin had evidence of their deal, a half-hearted match and some whispers would convince everyone it was all a sham.

“You’re not holding back on me now, are you?” he asked with his arms spread out. “I thought you would’ve at least gotten me down to yellow.”

She shifted her sword to a spear and took a balanced stance, waiting for him to make the first move. Cardin approached warily, ready to dart aside the moment her lance came at him.

As he approached, Weiss stood up. “Go Cardin! You can do it!”

He froze in his steps. His attention slid to the stands for a second, but panic turned his gaze back onto Pyrrha. She was also staring at Weiss, wide-eyed and dumbfounded.

Russell rose and added shouts of his own. “Show that know-it-all bitch who’s boss! Cardin! Cardin! Cardin!”

The chant rang a few times through the hall, muted, but rhythmic, pulsing, like the rush of blood in the ears. Sky and Dove stood and took up the chant. Heads turned, feet shifted, and eyes watched the chanters.

When Weiss joined in, it opened the floodgates. Students from Mistral were the first to follow suit, followed by a chorus of voices from around the world. Even Team CMEN stood, although only Mercury actually chanted. Within moments, the only ones seated were Team JNPR, who studied the chanters with a mixture of anger, impassiveness, and more anger, Ruby, who looked as though she wanted to sink through the floor, Blake, who scowled at the proceedings, and Yang, who watched with her arms crossed.

Professor Goodwitch tried to silence the crowd, but her shouts went unheeded. Students were whooping and cheering, taking pictures, and insulting Pyrrha. The chorus of voices rolled over one another until they became one unified display of jubilance and joyous disbelief.

The uncertainty in Pyrrha’s eyes was gone when she turned back towards him. Her eyes burned like cuprous flames, and she stood as tall and straight as her spear. She held out her left hand towards the spectators, sweeping it across the stands until she found her shield. It flew into her outstretched hand.

The moment her fingers closed around the shield, Pyrrha charged. Her spear thrust nearly gouged a hole through his breastplate as he turned aside, and her shield slammed into his shoulder. Cardin stumbled back, holding his mace in front of him. Another jab made him swing his mace to parry it, but the weapon changed mid-swing, darted past his mace, and struck at his chest. Blow after blow rattled on his armor and hacked at his Aura as he backpedaled, watching out of the corner of his eye for the edge of the platform. Each blow stifled the shouts in the seats, until they had all gone dead silent.

He felt his heel hit the edge of the arena. His arms tingled as he sent his Semblance through all his armor, lightening it until it felt like cloth. As Blake had taught him, he bent his legs, sprang up, and vaulted over Pyrrha, grabbing her shoulders as he sailed over her. His Semblance shifted, made his set of armor, along with her own, heavy as boulders. She gasped and sank to her knees while Cardin crushed her from behind, forcing her closer to the edge.

She twisted out from under him and scurried away. Cardin rolled onto his feet, mace raised, and barely deflected a barrage of Dust rounds aimed at his face. He charged, ignoring the rounds that bounced off him, and swung again. Pyrrha floated away, lifted by her armor, and kept firing from a safe distance above Cardin’s head.

Cardin scrambled for the center of the arena as shots pinged off the rock around him. At the crater where his first blow had landed, several fist-sized rocks lay in a heap. He grabbed one, lightened it with his Semblance, and hurled it. Pyrrha darted around the first couple rocks, but the fourth hit her in the shoulder, and her shots flew erratically as she wove around his projectiles.

She landed as Cardin was grabbing another rock. He barely had time to drop it and get both hands on his mace before her shield slammed into him. She tried to wedge it under his grip, but a bit of his Semblance kept her shield down. They grappled, her shield locked under his arms, her sword hacking at his shoulder guard, until Cardin put more pressure on the shield. She dropped it, and this time, Cardin scooped it up, holding it in front of him as she did.

Polarity tugged at the shield, but Cardin kept a firm grip on it. Too late did he realize it was a bad idea, as he was dragged forward, feet trailing behind him. He scrambled to get his feet back under him, but he was too distracted to react to the spear jab underneath the shield, driving the wind out of his gut. Gasping for air, Cardin dropped the shield and made a few wild swings. One clipped her in the arm, but her shield twisted and settled into her hand in front of his other blows.

Pyrrha’s weapon and shield drove him in rings around the arena. Each was a red and gold blur in Pyrrha’s hand, knocking his weapon aside, probing the chinks in his armor, cleaving Aura a couple percent at a time. Cardin used as much of his Semblance as he could handle, fighting nimbly on his feet in plate armor light as cotton, but Pyrrha moved with inhuman speed, propelled forward by the force of her Semblance. The sword shrieked as it sliced the air, and her shield left blinding gusts of wind in its wake.

A few seconds of reprieve made Cardin stop in surprise. Pyrrha was studying the overhead display, showing both their Auras in the low yellow. She had only lost fifteen percent from Semblance use and Cardin’s desperate blow, while Cardin was down to a quarter. The lull made him fully aware of how much his lungs ached, how tired and numb his arms had become from extended use of his Semblance, how his legs trembled and sweat ran in rivulets past his eyes. His heart hammered out a frantic beat in his chest, and his adrenaline-laced blood danced in time in his veins.

Pyrrha raised her right hand. Cardin felt his armor rise pulling at the straps, then his feet left the ground. Panic gripped him as he sailed back, towards the seats, and he sent his Semblance through himself. As he fell, he planted his mace head-first into the rock, gouging a hole to anchor it in. Pyrrha’s Semblance continued to push him back, but he held on to his mace, forcing it deeper into the rock as Polarity tried to wriggle it free. A quick glance back showed him he had dodged defeat by nine inches.

Both Cardin and Pyrrha watched the displays as their Semblances fought a silent duel of force and inertia. Cardin was the first to lose a point, then Pyrrha. The display ticked down their Aura a percent at a time, until they were both another hit shy of defeat. Cardin gritted his teeth and watched her, waiting for her to make the next move.

The pressure ceased. Cardin only had a second to lighten his armor and leap to his feet before her spear struck at him. He leaned aside and wrapped a gauntleted arm around the weapon, driving his Semblance into it and holding it fast. It sank to his legs when Pyrrha let go of it. Confused, Cardin looked up and saw Pyrrha’s shield swinging towards his cheek.

He had no time to dodge. He barely had time for a thought as the shield’s edge rushed towards him. If it hit his Aura, he would lose. So, he had to make sure it would hit something other than his Aura. He couldn’t jump, not without getting knocked over the edge of the ring, he couldn’t duck, that’d leave him open to her next attack.

But there was a spot on his face where his Aura wouldn’t protect him.

He turned his head so the shield caught him square in the nose. The plastic implant shattered with a loud, sickening crunch. The crowd gasped. Blood spurted from his crumpled nostrils, and a spike of pain drove itself through Cardin’s head. The blow forced him back, but he made his armor heavier and stopped himself an inch shy of stepping over the edge.

Pyrrha staggered back and dropped her shield. Terror paled her face, and her hands trembled. With a roar, Cardin lunged forward, pulled back his arm, and landed a haymaker on Pyrrha’s nose. Her Semblance flared up, but she grunted in pain and fell to the floor.

Cardin licked his lip and tasted hot, metallic blood. He felt it dribble down his chin and drip onto his armor. He looked up, saw that his Aura was still at seventeen. His mace was where he had left it. He yanked it out of the rock and held it up for the crowd.

His pose was greeted with silence. Cardin felt awkward, standing there, posing for a victory that nobody had believed even happened, and almost let the mace fall, but Professor Goodwitch came onto the platform.

“As Mr. Winchester’s Aura remains in the yellow, while Pyrrha has dropped into the red, Cardin Winchester has won this match.”

Her announcement ignited the crowd. A triumphant roar went up, and applause rippled and cracked like Dust explosions. Cardin found an involuntary smile spread across his face, and for a brief, giddy moment, he had forgotten all about the deal with Pyrrha. He had beaten the champion, fighting with the full use of her Semblance and every ounce of will bent on crushing him.

Russell sprinted down from the stands and vaulted up on the platform. Sky and Dove weren’t far behind.

“Holy shit, man, that was amazing! I thought you were crazy when you challenged her, but damn!” Russell pointed at his nose. “I think you’re gonna need another trip to the nurse’s office.”

Dove snorted. “Forget the nurse, he needs a hospital. His nose is practically gone.”

Cardin gingerly felt at his face. The skin burned wherever his fingers touched. He winced when he found the edge where Pyrrha’s shield had sliced into his nose. On the left side, the skin had completely torn away, leaving the tip of his nose, with most of the implant, dangling by the flap of skin on the right. He tipped his head forward, and a few bloodstained shards of plastic fell into his palm.

Pyrrha’s voice wavered as she approached him. “Are – are you okay?” The corners of her eyes glistened, but no tears fell down her face. “Your nose.”

Cardin held up the plastic pieces. “Fake. Hurts like hell, but it was fake.”

She looked up at the display. “That’s why your Aura didn’t activate.” Her hands clenched, and her weapons floated onto her back.

“That was a close one. Too close.”

She looked away from his stare. “Congratulations.” Her voice was hollow and melancholy. She walked up to Professor Goodwitch and asked to use the restroom before running out of the auditorium. Jaune ran after her, with Nora and Ren following behind him. Cardin felt the temptation to follow after, hear what she would say to them, but as the adrenaline wore off, the sharp throb from his nose turned into a raging inferno.

“Professor Goodwitch, could I go to the nurse’s office? I could really use some painkillers.”


	25. Envy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It’s been another relatively uneventful week. Work has had a fun surprise each day (note the sarcasm) but it hasn’t been anything too crazy, and today should be a nice, slow shutdown for the weekend. I get both days off for once, but I’ll be attending a funeral tomorrow.
> 
> As for last chapter, it was a lot of fun writing the combat for that one, and I was really excited to see what kind of response it would get. The reviews indicate that I got what I was going for, a realistic portrayal highlighting the strengths and weaknesses of both characters, cool use of Cardin’s shiny new Semblance, and tight, well-directed writing of the action.
> 
> Of course, it can’t be all sunshine and rainbows for Cardin, now can it? That just wouldn’t be fun.

\----------

The nurse had given him a couple white pills and a bed to lie in while she got the bandages ready. Before the painkillers had time to kick in, Cardin’s father called. He answered, indicating that he was alone but might be listened in on, and his father returned the signals.

“I’m impressed with that battle,” his father said. “You can’t even tell she was throwing the match.”

“She’s a good actor.”

His father grunted. “Gideon will be at Beacon in ten minutes. I’ve already set up your appointment. The doctor tells me he can have your nose patched up in time for the Vytal Festival, but you’ll need to be careful until then.”

“Anything else I need to know?”

“Yes. That was foolish of you. You should have had her lose to someone else, Cinder perhaps.”

Cardin shuddered and shrank into the sheets. “I am unsure of Cinder’s agenda, and I don’t know how wise it is to owe her any favors.”

“Banks don’t dispose of their debtors, Cardin. They keep them around to make interest payments.”

“And if I can’t afford those payments?”

“Borrow some more.”

Cardin’s fingers tightened on the Scroll. “Just how much power does she have?”

“I’ve spent the last few months trying to figure that out.” The sound of shuffling paper came over the speakers. “As far as financial assets goes, she has a suspicious amount of cash at hand, her bank is funded with a tangled web of subsidiaries and fringe institutions, and any paper trail around her hits a dead end outside of Vale. She has Duke Orgen wrapped around her finger, or so it seems, and many other Dukes are also following her lead.” In a grim voice, he added, “Myself included.”

In a low voice, Cardin said, “She asked me to find something for her, something that Ozpin had taken from her.”

There was a long pause before his father said, “She didn’t tell you anything more specific?”

“No. She wants me to observe the Huntsman patrols and try to find any anomalies.”

“Which means it’s something big, and something important.” His father tapped a pen on his desk. “I cannot safely act on this information. I trust that you will act to your best discretion on this matter.”

“Understood. Thank you for arranging the hospital trip.”

The nurse had just applied the bandages when Gideon knocked on the door. He bowed to Cardin and said, “I have a Bullhead waiting just outside the building.”

“Thank you Gideon.” He pushed himself out of bed, wincing as blood rushed down out of his face. “After you.”

It was a quiet and fast flight to Vale Central Hospital, and Gideon only had to say a few words to a receptionist before they were admitted to a hospital room. The surgeon had his tools prepped and a bottle of anesthetic on hand. Cardin groaned when he saw the label.

“Yes, this stuff. I’m afraid I’ll have to do some delicate work deeper in your nasal cavity, so I’ll have to deactivate your Aura.” He filled a syringe with the clear liquid and tapped out the bubbles. “I’ll just be doing a localized injection, so the side effects will be minimal. The main anesthetic will just put you under.”

By the time he was awake, he had a throbbing headache, a stomach that felt like it was full of battery acid, and a red, fleshy flap of skin over a new prosthetic nose, tenderly packaged in enough bandaging to stop a Bullhead. The doctor handed him a bottle of painkillers, told him when and how to take them, and escorted him with Gideon to the reception area.

Russell met him at the Bullhead docks and gave a quick hello to Gideon. Cardin’s stomach nearly upended itself when Russell asked if he wanted to hit the cafeteria, and Russell winced when Cardin explained he had taken Aura-blockers.

“Yeah, that stuff sucks. Had it when my wisdom teeth were removed. So, how’s the new nose.”

Cardin checked the bandages. “I don’t get to take these off for ten days. Just in time for the Festival.”

“That long? Isn’t your – oh, right, no Aura there.”

“The doc said it’ll help for some of the facial stitches, but everything around the nose has to heal the old-fashioned way.”

Halfway back to the dorms, Cardin became too dizzy to walk, and Russell had to lend him a shoulder the rest of the way there. He collapsed onto his bed, too sick from the anesthetic to pull the covers over himself, and dozed off.

It was nightfall by the time he woke up again, but his teammates were still up. A quick glance at the clock showed it was just before ten.

“You up?” Dove asked from behind his Scroll. “How’s your head?”

“Awful.” It was about as eloquently as he could manage to describe the fuzzy, bloated, mothball feeling in his sinuses, and the slow, rhythmic throbbing in his temples. “Water?”

Sky ran out and got him a glass. He drank from it greedily, only to regret it moments later when his stomach tried to return it to sender with an extra helping of bile. He kept it down, only because his body was too sluggish to turn over and let everything out.

He spent an hour in a peculiar mental limbo where he felt too awake to fall back to sleep, but too tired to do anything more than stare up at the ceiling and wish he could unscrew the top of his head so he could vent all the pressure building up in his skull. As curfew drew closer, his illness abated, and by the time a knock came at the door, he felt lucid enough to sit up when Russell answered it.

It was Jaune. He looked past Russell and stared at Cardin, with his jaw set hard enough to crush marble. “We need to talk. Alone.”

Cardin stretched, prompting a few nauseous twinges from his stomach. “It’s a bit late. Can’t this wait until tomorrow?”

“No. We’re doing this now.”

Cardin looked at his teammates, and with a wave of his hand, they went past Jaune out the door. Once they were gone, Jaune closed the door and sat on the bed opposite Cardin.

“Pyrrha told me everything. Ren too.”

Cardin nodded. “What about it?”

Jaune’s anger boiled over. “What about it? You blackmailed Pyrrha!”

“I blackmail lots of people. Now, what do you want? My head’s killing me.”

Jaune fumbled for words, let out an angry grunt, and took a deep breath. “I want you to leave my teammates alone. No more blackmailing them, no more using them, no nothing.”

“Got it. Why should I do any of that?”

“Because I’ll tell Headmaster Ozpin.”

“He probably already knows.”

Jaune gave a start. “He what?”

“He’s got cameras everywhere. I wasn’t exactly subtle when I walked up to her in the library and told her what to do.”

“Then why isn’t he doing anything?”

Cardin massaged his temples. “I’m too tired to explain it. If you really want to know, ask him.”

“Then I’ll go with what Ren had suggested. We’ll tell Cinder that you’re trying to spy on her.”

“Ah, that.” Cardin forced back a wave of vomit at the bottom of his throat. “Fine, whatever. Now get out.”

“That’s it? You’re going to leave my team alone?”

“You want it in writing? Just go, I’m too tired for this.”

Jaune didn’t leave. He leaned closer and looked into Cardin’s haggard face. “Why were you doing this? Do you really care that much about winning the Vytal Festival?”

“What part of get the hell out of my room isn’t clear to you?” Cardin grumbled. “I just got off of Aura-blockers.”

“What are those?”

Cardin tried to put some contempt into his stare, but the effect was ruined by his pale, sweaty countenance. “The worst. Now, for the love of the Gods, get out of my room.”

Jaune stood up, but he stepped towards Cardin. “You know, when I first came here, seeing you in your armor, with that mace, the way you looked calm, almost bored, I thought I wanted to be just like you. Someone who looked as ready for anything as you did. I even thought about trying to find you in the forest. I was hoping you’d be able to teach me, make me less useless than I was.” Jaune snorted. “I’m glad that never happened. You have to be the single most revolting, disgusting, unforgivable person I have ever met. You used me and my teammates just to win a stupid tournament.”

As Jaune’s diatribe ran on, Cardin’s stomach roiled. Before he could try to stop himself, vomit gushed out of his mouth and onto Jaune’s shoes.

Jaune stopped mid-sentence and looked down at his soiled sneakers. He sighed and said, “Not the first time they’ve been puked on.”

“Now will you leave?”

Jaune slipped his feet out of his shoes and gingerly stepped out of the damp, chunky spot on the floor. “Sorry about that. Had a lot I wanted to get off my chest.” As he opened the door, he said over his shoulder, “Good night Cardin.”

Russell complained the moment he set foot in the room. “Gods, did you die in here?”

“Ha ha,” Cardin deadpanned. “Would you mind cleaning it up, it’s giving me a headache.”

Russell grabbed some rags out of the bathroom and sponged up the mess, while Dove and Sky tiptoed around the mess to their beds. They both checked their sheets before pulling themselves under.

“What did he want?” Dove asked.

“Pyrrha spilled. He wanted me to stop.”

“Are you?”

“Dunno. Need sleep.”

He felt like a different person the next morning. A quick test on his bedpost confirmed that his Aura was back and at full strength. His stomach grumbled, and it took three helpings of breakfast, despite Russell’s insistence he’d puke it up on the bedroom floor, to get it quiet.

Some probing around the bandages showed that the extremities had healed overnight, but a tingling, burning sensation anytime his fingers brushed the gauze over his nose warned him against going any further.

As Cardin was cleaning his last plate, Cinder strolled over to the table. She sat down in front of him while Emerald and Mercury stood off to the side.

“You’ve gotten quite famous overnight.” She pulled out her Scroll and showed him a video of his fight with Pyrrha. It was nearly at a million views. “I have word it’s going to be on the late morning news.”

“Any chance they’ll want me for an interview?”

“They’ve been told that you’re still recovering from your injury.” She frowned and sat in front of him. “Why did you arrange that fight? It would have been wiser to handle that together.”

Cardin forced a smile and leaned back. “You’ve helped me so much already, I didn’t feel like being a burden.”

“And if you had failed?”

“I had everything under control.”

Cinder pointed at his nose. “That tells a different story.”

“It makes for good theatrics. Nobody would believe it if it didn’t come down to the wire.”

Cinder’s face hardened. She stood and motioned for Cardin to follow her. When Russell started after him, Cardin stopped him with a gesture. She led them down a long string of hallways, out the building, and all the way back to her dorm. Emerald and Mercury were gone, but Nelly was sitting on her bed, dangling her legs over the side and sharpening a knife. Cinder pointed out the door, and with a pouting face, Nelly left.

“Do you think you’ve won?” she asked. “If anything, you’ve set yourself further back. Any chance you had of surprising her and winning fairly is gone, and she’s told her teammates what you have done. She won’t let you blackmail her a second time. You failed.”

Cardin shrugged, but inside, he felt frost coating his lungs. “I exposed her Semblance for everyone to see and proved she could be beaten. Now I don’t have to do anything. Some other team will take care of her for me.”

“Don’t be naïve. Perhaps one on one, someone could win without their typical arms, but in teams and doubles, her opponents would be at too great a disadvantage.” She frowned and added, “Especially with that Arc boy’s Semblance. There’s no telling how dangerous he could be.”

“Then she can lose in singles. Anyone who makes it that far should be able to contend with her once they know what her Semblance is.”

Cinder smiled, and her eyes flickered like candles in the shadows of the room. “What if you get unlucky and fight her in the first round of singles? People can find their luck turn on them when they rely on it too much.”

There was a subtle croon in her voice that made Cardin’s ears perk up. “Are you suggesting you have a way around that?”

Cinder’s smile widened. “I have my ways, Cardin. I could make you the winner of the Vytal Festival. I can make you Duke of Winchester within a year.” She leaned in close to him and whispered in his ear. “I could make you King of Vale.”

Cardin snorted. “The title’s been defunct for centuries.”

“It doesn’t have to be.” She put her fingers on his shoulder, and he shivered under her touch. “You could have whatever you want. All I need you to do is trust me, and obey me.”

Cardin took a deep breath. He was all too aware of how sharp her fingernails were. She might be able to slice open his neck with them, if she was strong enough. Just one little nick in his jugular, after piercing his Aura, was all it would take.

“Of course. Forgive me for not coming to you with my problem sooner. I had merely not wished to offend you with such trivialities.”

The fingers slid off his shoulder, leaving behind a burning, sinuous trail. “Good. Keep searching for Ozpin’s secrets, and you’ll have whatever you desire.” She stood and offered him a hand up. Cardin took it. “You better take care. A lot of teams have taken interest in you, and some have talked of challenging you today.”

Cardin tapped the corner of his bandages. “I have an excuse ready-made.”

Cinder chuckled. “Perhaps you should compete. It would be well if they saw you lose a battle.”

As the students filed into the auditorium for the second day of qualifiers, Pyrrha split off from her team and headed toward him. With a quick glance at Jaune, Cardin stepped aside in the hallway, to an alcove in front of an empty classroom. He was just out of view of the traffic coming into the auditorium, but Pyrrha found him and leaned against the wall near his shoulder.

“I wanted to apologize for yesterday.”

“For breaking my nose, or your word?”

Pyrrha frowned at him. “For the nose. I still lost in the end.”

“You weren’t trying to lose.”

“No, I was not.” Pyrrha sank to the floor, and Cardin crouched beside her. “I thought I hated being unbeatable. I thought what made me miserable was how much everyone idolized me, how people thought they had lost the moment they crossed blades with me, how I seemed to trample the hopes and dreams of everyone aspiring to be the best. I thought I wanted to get away from that, to go somewhere where I wasn’t special and find someone who could defeat me.”

“That’s why you went to Beacon?”

Pyrrha nodded. “Back home, I was the champion. I even beat professional Huntsmen in exhibition matches. I was hoping I’d be less well known in Vale, but I was wrong.” She paused. “Well, not entirely wrong.”

“Jaune?”

“Yeah.” She rested her shin on her knees. “I started that battle intending to lose. I was even looking forward to it, in a way. I thought maybe that’s what needed to happen, I needed to lose to finally stop being the invincible girl, the special one that made everyone around her feel like trash. Then you messed with my Polarity, took most of my Aura, and had the crowd chanting your name within a couple minutes. I was terrified. I thought I was actually going to lose, really lose, not the fake defeat I had planned in my head. I was terrified that I wasn’t going to be the best anymore.”

“So, now what? You told Jaune everything, right?”

Pyrrha bit her lip. “No, not everything.”

“You left out the Blake stuff.”

“Yeah, that.” Pyrrha looked down at her hands, seemingly unable to meet his eyes.

“Do you still want Jaune?”

“Well, I do, but not if it means breaking him and Blake apart.” She looked up at him. “I’ve been a fool. I thought I hated being unbeatable, but deep down, I cherished it more than anything else. I thought I wanted to fight fair, to never use my broken Semblance, but when push came to shove, I was willing to do whatever I took to win.” Her hands curled into fists, and she pounded them on her thighs. “I broke your nose trying to beat you. How far would I have been willing to go? What if I killed someone?”

Cardin couldn’t think of an answer for that. Instead, he said, “In fairness, I don’t think you were trying to break my nose.”

“I know. Doesn’t make it any better.”

After a long, awkward moment of silence, Cardin got up and stretched. “We better wrap this up, the prelims are starting back up soon.”

Pyrrha rose, dusted herself off, and rubbed the tears out of her eyes. “You’re not going to blackmail me anymore.

“I don’t have to. Now that your secret’s out, someone else can come up with something to beat you.”

As he was walking away, Pyrrha asked, “Do you really want to win that badly?”

He didn’t stop to answer. The auditorium was packed, but the aisles were free, and he found his teammates towards the front of the arena. He slipped in next to Russell and set his mace in between his legs. “Did I miss anything?”

“It’s just getting started. What did Pyrrha want?”

“To apologize for redecorating my face.”

Russell snickered. “I liked it. A lot roomier in the front.”

Pyrrha made it into the room just before Professor Goodwitch came onto the stage. She spent the first few minutes explaining the changes in the seeding, including Team CRDL’s dramatic leap to second seeding for Vale, just behind JNPR.

“Well, that just made our lives easier,” Dove said. “Way to take one for the team.”

“The selection process for the bracket is randomized on the spot,” Professor Goodwitch explained, “But the odds are weighted based on how you’re seeded. The system is more likely to put the highest-ranked seeds with the lowest, in interest of keeping the later rounds more competitive. Of course, since we want to add an element of unpredictability to the tournament, it’s still possible for first-ranked seeds to square off in the first round.”

“So much for that,” Sky muttered.

Once the matches began, nearly every hand in the room shot up. Goodwitch picked an Atlesian student, who requested Cardin as an opponent.

“Mr. Winchester will be recovering from his injuries for a couple weeks. He is exempt from any further challenges. Would you like to pick someone else?”

The rest of the day went the same as the first, until Jaune walked up to the stage and asked to challenge Cardin.

“I believe I already made it clear that he is recovering from injuries, Mr. Arc. Please pick someone else.”

Jaune turned away from her and looked up at Cardin. “I can fix that. Wouldn’t take too much of my Aura.”

A chance to get out of the bandages a few weeks early, to experience Jaune’s healing Semblance for himself, and to lull the audience into a false sense of security, all the while taking Cinder’s advice? A little pride was worth the price.

“If your Semblance works, I’m game.” Cardin twirled his mace in his hand and sauntered down the stairs. “So, do you have to actually touch it?”

“Your hand will do.”

Cardin held out his hand. Jaune touched the barest tip of one finger, and through it poured a river of molten iron. He flinched as the warmth rushed into his nose, knitting together the torn flesh and easing the swelling. Within seconds, the subtle, persistent pain he had grown accustomed to vanished, leaving a null, tingling sensation in his face. He touched at the bandages, felt nothing, and removed them one by one. Crossing his eyes, he saw that the skin was pale cream, the dark-blue stitches standing out in sharp contrast. He ran a finger over the healed skin, felt at the new implant, nudged it, feeling for any residual injury and finding no sign.

“Don’t go for the face,” Cardin said. “I’ve had enough trips to the hospital for one week.”

Jaune took a few steps and took out his sword and shield. “I won’t break your nose. Arc’s word on it.”

Professor Goodwitch never got the chance to call the match’s start. Jaune lunged forward, sword striking towards his belly. Cardin swept it aside with his mace. The shield pushed his mace further aside, opening Cardin’s side to a backhanded swing. Cardin ducked, letting the sword ring on his shoulder plate. He rammed his shoulder forward, driving the sword past his back and slamming into Jaune’s plate armor.

Jaune stumbled back, but his retreat was coordinated, each step firm and deliberate, his center of mass stable, his sword and shield steady in front of him. The moment his feet found purchase, Jaune rushed forward, shield high and the sword whistling down at Cardin’s neck. Cardin leaned aside, taking the cut on his armor, and grabbed the shield with his left hand. Jaune’ shield hit the floor with a loud clunk. He swung around with his right, intending to clobber Jaune in the side of the head. A white glow surrounded the shield, and it darted up to intercept the blow. The glow vanished the instant before his mace hit. The shield clanged and vibrated under the impact, but Jaune held it steady.

Jaune’s sword leapt up, jabbing under Cardin’s armor. Cardin sent his Semblance into the blade, but after it sank an inch, it became infused with the same light and drove deeper. He felt the numbness of Aura drain as the sword sawed at his skin, but he pushed past it, shoving Jaune towards the edge of his arena.

Jaune raised his shield, and an intense white sheen engulfed it. With a blinding flash, the light leapt forward, a solid wall buffeting Cardin back. Jaune’s blade disentangled itself and cut into Cardin’s side. Cardin grabbed the sword with a gauntleted fist, wrenched Jaune sideways, and slammed his mace into Jaune’s exposed back. Jaune made his shield fold up into the sheath and swung it like a club at Cardin’s wrist, forcing him to drop the sword.

Cardin glanced up at the board. To his shock, Jaune’s Aura was still above three-quarters, while Cardin had just dipped into the yellow. His eyes darted back in time to see Jaune lunge, his sword jabbing at his gut while the sheath was raised for an overhand blow. Cardin stepped back, letting Jaune wear himself out with swing after swing. A bit of Semblance made his armor lighter, and he focused on breathing easily, making as little movement as possible. Jaune’s Aura had always been ridiculous, but his stamina couldn’t keep up.

Except, this time, it did. After almost five minutes of swinging, and a risky shot at his shoulder, Jaune had hardly broken a sweat. A quick check at the board, however, showed a five-percent drop in his Aura, even though Cardin hadn’t touched him.

When Jaune overextended himself again, Cardin blocked both arms with his own and headbutted him. While Jaune stumbled back, cursing, Cardin lightened his mace and closed in with a flurry of swipes. Three caught Jaune in the head before he extended his shield and held it before the onslaught. Cardin tried grabbing it again, but the white glow returned before he could hook his mace over Jaune’s shield. Cardin was forced to retreat as Jaune made aggressive slashes at his chest and legs.

Another glance at the board showed that he had fallen to forty percent, while Jaune had just over half of his left. He smiled and lowered his mace.

“What’s the matter, Jaune? Are you mad that I made your girlfriend look like an idiot?”

Jaune didn’t charge. Instead, he stepped backwards, staring intently at Cardin, until his feet hit the edge of the ring. His sword glowed, Aura rippling off the steel like flames. Cardin crouched and watched Jaune carefully, every twitch of his shoulders, feet, and eyes, hunting for a clue of what was to come.

Jaune swung the sword. The light leapt from the blade and soared through the air at Cardin. He raised his mace to block, but the light rushed past the weapon, only stopped where it made direct contact with the haft. The broken slash of light slammed into Cardin in two pieces, one nicking his shoulder, the other slamming into his gut. The wave of Aura was sharp as Croeca Mors and chewed through his Aura until it dissipated. He only had time for a quick glance at the display and finding that he had lost almost ten percent on that hit to Jaune’s two, before another slash tore at him. He dodged it, but Jaune’s shield joined in, buffeting him with walls of light while the sword slashed at him.

Cardin danced at the edge of the arena, using his Semblance and every trick Blake had taught him to roll out of the way, stay on his feet, duck and weave around the slashes, but it wasn’t enough. A slash caught his foot, a wall slammed into his shoulder, and another slash hit his arm. Within three minutes, he had dipped below a quarter and had gotten no closer to reaching Jaune. He ground his teeth, and anger simmered in the back of his mind, anger that he was being outclassed, actually beaten, by the same runt of the litter he could toss around the ring a few months ago.

He flinched when he felt the his thumb hit the trigger for his chain. Clenching the mace in his hand, he fought the rising anger in his chest as he let the last slash take him. A white-hot lance of pain turned cold and numb as Aura seeped out of him. His Aura meter went red, and Goodwitch called an end to the match.

Jaune strode up to him, sword still in hand. “That’s for Pyrrha,” he said, too low for anyone but Cardin to hear.


	26. Chapter 26

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This week has certainly had its ups and downs. 
> 
> I tried making red velvet cake and homemade pizza and calzones last weekend, only for the cake to turn out so underdone the middle was like soup, and my brand new pizza stone cracked after a single calzone. I followed all the instructions when using it, tempered it for an hour, made sure it was dry, all that good stuff. Still cracked in half. At least I kept the box it came in, so I get to return it.
> 
> As for good stuff, I’ve got a date arranged for next Tuesday. I’ve got no idea what she’s like or what she’ll think of me – I haven’t even met her in person yet, but my mom seems to think it’ll work between us, so who knows? And yes, my mom’s the reason I got her phone number. 
> 
> Sounds like people liked the Jaune fight as well. I thought that Jaune’s Semblance had more potential than healing people, and the Aura slashes were a great way to ‘fix’ Jaune’s lack of range and exploiting his godlike Aura reserves. That’s not to say it won’t have weaknesses – overpowered abilities are never any fun.
> 
> Alright, on to further schemes and machinations.

**\----------**

After the third and final day of preliminary matches, and the final seeding of their teams, Cardin was hoping to take a long bath. Four separate students had challenged him, and as if to spite him, Jaune was all too willing to top off his Aura reserves so he could fight each one. It didn’t help that Professor Goodwitch was just as eager to see him fight until he dropped, but if it was in an effort to see how he had defeated Pyrrha, or revenge for blackmailing her, he couldn’t tell.

Instead of that long bath and meditation on all the ways he would make Jaune suffer during the Festival, Weiss had knocked on his door and invited his whole team for a ramen trip in a tone that brooked no argument. Worse, she had dragged Teams JNPR and CMEN into the mix. The thin crowd on the streets gave the pack of armed students wide berth – armed, because Weiss hadn’t given them time to change out of their armor.

“Come on, I know a good ramen shop just down the street!” Weiss said as she pulled Ruby along by her hand.

“Can’t we do this another day?” Ruby moaned. “My feet are killing me and I can barely stand.”

“The Vytal Festival is starting soon, and the whole city’s going to be crowded. If we don’t do this now, we’re not going to get good seats!”

“It’s four in the afternoon,” Ren pointed out. “I don’t think any of us are ready for a meal.”

“Speak for yourself!” Nora piped up. “It’s always a good time for food!” Cardin wasn’t sure when she had changed into a flowery kimono, or how she managed to stay upright on those wooden sandals, or why she heard the word ramen and thought it was a good time to slather some white makeup all over her face and stick chopsticks in her hair. Ren, for his part, looked perfectly at home swathed in dark-blue robes, with a borrowed katana on his back and shurikens on his hip. His wooden sandals didn’t make a sound as he walked on the pavement.

“When aren’t you hungry?” Emerald asked in a playful tone. She walked up next to Ruby and stayed at her shoulder, looking back at Cinder once a block.

Mercury and Cinder hung towards the rear of the pack, neither saying a word. Nelly kept a few paces ahead of them, but anytime she strayed further forward, Cinder suddenly spoke up, asking if she was feeling alright or what she thought of Vale. There were flashes of anger in Nelly’s eyes each time Cinder’s words drew her back.

Cardin’s teammates stayed in a cluster around him, eyeing the other students warily. He felt himself doing the same. Jaune glared daggers at him when he thought he wasn’t looking, Blake was holding Jaune’s hand, and Pyrrha was looking at the pair as if she might collapse into a puddle of tears at the slightest touch. He felt like he was walking through a munitions factory while all the employees were passing around flaming shots of vodka.

“So, why exactly are we doing this again?” Russell asked while they were walking.

“To keep tabs on Pyrrha,” Cardin offered as an answer. He neglected to add Ruby, Blake, Cinder and her team to the list. “I need to make sure she’ll lose again in the tournament.”

“Not going to happen in the early rounds,” Dove said. “Two busted Semblances on one team? They’re making it to the singles for sure.”

“It’s not Jaune’s Semblance that’s busted,” Sky said, “It’s how much Aura he has to fuel that thing. He has enough to heal Cardin five times over.”

“Not to mention he can use his as a weapon.” Cardin studied Jaune and thought back to the match. “Must have something to do with pushing Aura into an object. Can a non-living thing hold Aura?”

“No one’s tried, as far as I know,” Sky said. “Makes me wonder what else he can do with it.”

“And here we are!” Weiss shouted. She swung the door open and peered inside. “Perfect, it’s completely empty! Come on!”

A polished bamboo bar split the restaurant in two, with the staff side housing huge boilers for the broth and noodles, refrigerated bins for cuts of meat, bamboo, and other mix-ins, fryers for the appetizers, and bottles of sake and Mistraltan beer. The customer side had a few extra tables, decorative lamps, and foreign-looking metal signs plastered on every wall.

The bartender poured them glasses of water and took orders from all of them. Bowls of takoyaki and chicken karaage were passed around, fresh from the fryer, with eel sauce drizzled over top of the fried octopi. Cardin helped himself to a heaping plateful and ate them with the chopsticks. His teammates struggled to use the wooden utensils and cracked out the forks.

“How do you do that?” Sky asked.

“Practice,” Cardin said. “You just hold the sticks around your middle finger and pinch them together.”

Sky persisted with the chopsticks a little longer and got a lump of chicken for his efforts, but as the appetizers disappeared on everyone else’s plates, he was forced to abandon the chopsticks.

Cardin smelled the ramen before the bartender brought it over, bowl by bowl. Most had gone with the pork tonkotsu, to Weiss’ fervent recommendation, but Cardin felt in the mood for something spicier. His miso broth had enough kick to knock out some teeth, with a tangy, rich aftertaste that made him lick his lips.

“Mind if I try some?” Russell asked. He ladled out some broth with his spoon. The moment it touched his tongue, he coughed violently and scrambled for the water.

“Holy hell, that’s hot! What did they put in this?”

Cardin consulted the menu. “Chili oil and threads. The miso has some kick as well. Drink some of your broth, it’ll help.”

Russell greedily slurped his ramen, and the coughing subsided. Sky sampled a drop and shied away from the burn, while Dove stuck with his milder broth.

A different aroma caught his nose as the server brought the last bowl. Blake had gone with a seafood salt-broth, piled high with extra scallops. Her mouth watered as she snatched up a fork and tore into the mound of seafood.

“So, is that a cat-Faunus thing, or does she just like seafood a lot?” Sky asked.

Russell grinned. “She’s a cat, and cats like seafood. Simple.”

Cardin saw Blake’s ears flicker underneath her bow. He grinned and added in a whisper, “I wonder what she’d do for a bowl of cream.”

Russell snickered into his Ramen, and Sky grinned along. Blake frowned at him and pushed away her bowl, unfinished, saying she had lost her appetite. She eyed it longingly as the bartender took it away.

The rest of the meal was conducted in relative silence, considering that Nora was slurping the noodles and praising the meal in boisterous Mistraltan. When Ren had tried moving the cloth around his face to eat his ramen, Nora jerked it back up and told him he couldn’t take it off or people would see him. To Ren’s credit, he had emptied his bowl, and Cardin hadn’t once seen him move the cloth or pick up the spoon and chopsticks.

When the bill came out, Weiss pulled out a wallet and flourished a credit card. The bartender scanned it and tossed it back on the counter.

“What? I know I still have a few hundred lien left in my account.” She fished out another card and handed it to him. “Try that one.”

It was also rejected. At her insistence, he tried scanning it with receipt paper wrapped around it, but the machine wouldn’t take her card.

“Allow me,” Cinder said, taking out her own card. The machine took it without complaint. “You should give your banker a firm scolding for the defective cards.”

“Yeah, I’ll do that.” Weiss blushed furiously and cast her eyes down at her empty bowl.

A week goes by, with celebrations in the streets for the upcoming Festival as people pour in through the Bullhead docks, the river ports, and the thoroughfares leading into the city. Many main streets are blocked off for outdoor seating as local businesses take advantage of the heavy foot traffic to display their wares and offer refreshments.

Cardin had avoided the festivities like the plague. The thought of being crammed in with thousands of pedestrians, waiting in line for a greasy taco or window shopping for trinkets and baubles he wouldn’t be caught dead owning held no appeal for him, and moreover, anyone hoping to plant a dagger in his back would be able to move undetected.

Luckily, many of the students at Beacon got caught up in the spectacle, either lured out by sales and discounts, or dragged along by family members. Other teams went to the Emerald Forest or booked training rooms. It left Beacon quiet during the afternoons and evenings.

He spent the days with Sky reviewing the information on other Teams. A quick look at Haven’s records revealed that Nelly Poltan had been added into Team CMEN’s roster at the last minute, but all it gave was a name and a face.

A few days of digging into Haven’s records yielded nothing else on Cinder. Sky had tried getting access to their Dust requisitions, in hopes of finding any anomalies, but those were restricted documents. As he was reviewing their transcripts for the eighth time, a knock came at the door. Cardin stashed away his Scroll and answered it.

Weiss stood outside of his room, ringing her hands and looking down at the floor.

“Could I talk to you? I need some advice.”

He felt his stomach tie itself in knots, but he gestured for her to take a seat. Once they were settled, Weiss took a deep breath and said, “You remember what happened at the ramen shop?”

“Your cards not working?”

“Yes, that. My father, well…” she chewed her lip.

“Let me guess. He revoked your spending privileges.”

“Yes, exactly!” Her hands balled up into fists, and she leaned forward. “He took it away without even telling me, and now I don’t have money for anything! Do you have any idea how frustrating it is to walk past a store, think ‘oh, that would be nice to have’, and realize I can’t buy it?”

“Well, what are you going to do about it?”

The question took the Dust out of her engine. “I was hoping you’d have an idea.”

“Your first option is to do nothing.”

Weiss crossed her arms. “I was hoping you’d have more helpful advice than that.”

“Your second,” Cardin put in, “Is to get a job.”

Weiss’ face brightened. “That’s a great idea! I heard Yang talking about bartending on the weekends.”

“It’s not. You’re too recognizable, not to mention there’s a good chance your father will pressure whoever hires you into letting you go.”

The smile vanished, and her shoulders slumped. “Then what’s my third option?”

“Convince him to give you your money back.”

“No. No way. I am not doing that.” She stood up and went to the door. “I went to Beacon to get as far away from him as possible. I am not about to let him run my life again!”

“Sounds good. Option one it is then. Good night Weiss.”

The door closed halfway, but Weiss hesitated with her hand on the knob. She turned back around. “Supposing I did try to talk to my father, do you think there’s a way I could, you know, maybe not do everything he says?”

Cardin sighed and slid his Scroll back under the covers. “He has all the leverage in this situation, and running back to him this quickly only reinforces it. He’d have you eating out of the palm of his hand if you let him.”

“Oh.” Weiss’ crestfallen face poked out from behind the closing door. “Well, sorry for bothering you. Good night Cardin.”

As the door closed, and he took out his Scroll, he was reminded of their current obstacle in finding more about Cinder. Without any info on their weapons or Semblances, who better to ask for records on Dust shipments than the man who owns the supply? By cross-referencing what the other teams would use, he could determine what Cinder had ordered.

“Hold on!” Cardin shouted as the door clicked shut. Weiss was waiting outside when he opened it again. “I had an idea.”

Weiss followed him back in and looked at him with an expectant face. “Yes?”

“If you want your spending privileges back, you have to appeal to what he wants. So tell me, what does Jacques Schnee, the richest man in the world, want the most?”

“To make me a model heiress for the company.”

Cardin brushed it aside. “Too specific. Go deeper.”

“To… to make the company more successful?”

“Too vague. Anybody could come up with that.”

Weiss frowned, but after a moment, she straightened. “His shareholders. Not a week goes by that he doesn’t have at least one of the major backers over for dinner.”

“Now we’re getting somewhere. What do they want?”

It took Weiss another two minutes to find an answer. “They want stable growth of the company, so they can profit off the dividends and sell when they want to.”

“If you want to negotiate with your father, you’ll have to leverage what he wants and play on what he fears. If you ask him to give you back your money because you want it, he’s going to make you pay for it. If you make it in his best interests to keep you well supplied, then he’ll be much more amenable.” He saw admiration and joy brighten her features and decided to temper it. “That doesn’t mean you won’t have to make any concessions, but it’ll be better than bartering empty-handed.”

“Got it. So, what should we tell him?”

“We?”

“Yes, we. I can’t do this myself.”

Cardin hid a grin. “Well, why don’t we go over some ideas? In the morning, we can head over to the CCT, and I’ll help you with the call.”

That next morning, far earlier than he had wished, Cardin found himself rolling out of bed and stripping out of his pajamas. Muttered complaints came from the other beds as Cardin made himself presentable and went out for breakfast. He barely had time to cram a few slices of toast into his mouth before Weiss dragged him away from the table and to the Bullhead docks.

“If we’re fast enough, we’ll catch him before he starts his morning paperwork. It’s the best time to catch him.”

“How early does he get up?” Cardin grumbled.

“Four in the morning. He says it makes for a sharp mind.”

“I’m pretty sure that’s an excuse to make everyone around him suffer.”

Weiss smiled and led him through town to the CCT. A quick word with a bleary-eyed receptionist granted them one of the private terminals on an upper floor. Cardin closed the door and stood off to the side, out of sight of the monitor’s camera but still able to see the screen, while Weiss took a seat and straightened her hair.

As Weiss typed in the number to her father’s company, he typed the same number into his Scroll. Jacques’ personal receptionist answered, and within seconds, Jacques himself came up on the monitor. Though the signal was a bit fuzzy, there was no mistaking the familial resemblance, striking blue eyes, hair the color of polished silver, and a striking, angular face.

“A pleasure to hear from you, Weiss. I can only assume that you are calling regarding your current financial situation?”

“I am.”

“Well, if you want my money, you’ll have to-”

“My apologies, father,” Weiss cut in, “But may I speak first? You may wish to hear this before we proceed.”

Jacques stroked his mustache for a moment. “Very well.”

Weiss bowed her head. “Thank you. I would first like to clarify that I did not come here to ask you to give me your money. I have done nothing to earn it, and it isn’t until you had revoked it that I realized that I have taken your generosity for granted. I also acknowledge that you were both correct and fully within your rights to do so.”

Jacques’ eyebrows rose. He leaned closer to the camera and peered into Weiss’ eyes. She met his gaze, but Cardin couldn’t see her expression. Whatever was on her face seemed to please Jacques.

“I see. Then how do you intend to earn back my generosity?”

Weiss smiled. “First, I will prevent the SDC shareholders from thinking that the Schnee family has fallen on hard times.”

The pleased expression evaporated on Jacques’ face, but he remained silent as Weiss continued.

“Up to this point, you’ve used the inflation of Dust prices and the massive rise in demand thanks to the Vytal Festival to offset the massive losses we have incurred due to White Fang theft and sabotage. Up to this point, you have been able to convince the shareholders that we have won out in this exchange. However, if word were to spread that the Heiress to the company were short of funds, it may cause some to wonder if they should sell their stocks while the price is high.”

“If you think you can threaten me into paying you off, you’re sorely mistaken.”

“I’m fully prepared to make concessions, father,” Weiss said. Her voice was firm and even, the tone they had practiced in his room. “I simply wished to make you aware that I am also ready to decline an offer if I feel it inadequate.”

Jacques drummed his fingers on the table. He ran a finger over his mustache and said, “I suppose you have a proposal in mind?”

“I do. Calls once a week, to inform you of how my classes are progressing and what connections I am making here in Vale.” Jacques’ eyes hardened when she said connections.

“Oh? And what might these connections be?”

“Friends then,” Weiss said, glancing at Cardin for a brief moment. Cardin felt the urge to shrink further out of the camera’s view, but the sound of shuffling feet might carry through the spotty connection.

The tension left her father’s face. “Ah, I see. Nothing of the political nature, I trust?”

“If you request it, then I shall approach a Ducal house, but seeing that I have little experience, I felt it wisest to distance myself from the local political affairs.”

“Wisely done. Perhaps in time, I can find someone to introduce you to the Dukes, but you have the right idea. Valean politics are the most cutthroat in Remnant, and the slightest mistake could cost us business with the Vytal Festival.”

“I will keep it in mind father. I also promise to send pictures with these calls of how I am spending the money. I know you already receive an itemized report, but a picture may better clarify the value of my purchases.”

“Yes, that would be nice.” He waited a moment. “Well? What else do you have to offer?”

“That is not enough?” Weiss asked. There wasn’t any surprise in her voice, but it would do.

Jacques Schnee chuckled and held a hand over his lips. “Weiss, you can’t be serious. A weekly phone call and some pictures hardly justify returning your privileges. If you can’t do better than that, then I’ll have to decline.”

Weiss pursed her lips, and paused for a moment. “How about you send me a servant?”

Jacques smiled. “Someone to keep an eye on you and give me their own report?”

“It would also reinforce the perception of wealth around the Schnee name, not to mention having a proper servant may help if I am to make overtures with the Dukes.”

“That it would.” Jacques stroked his mustache and considered Weiss for a moment. “Who do you ask I send over?”

Weiss bowed her head and lowered her eyes. “I leave that decision to you, father. I trust you will send whoever is best suited to the task.”

She had just the right resignation in her voice. Weiss had wanted to ask for her favorite servant, but Cardin told her he’d never send him over. That resignation may convince her father otherwise, judging by the soft smile on his face.

“I understand, and I do believe that will be sufficient. Your funds will be restored by eleven AM. I am glad we had this conversation, and I look forward to your call at this time, next week.”

A smile spread across Weiss’ face. “Thank you! I’ll send you a picture of the first purchase I make.”

The screen cut out, and the speaker went dead. Just in case, Cardin waited until they were outside to start speaking.

“You’re a lifesaver Cardin! I don’t know what I would’ve done without you.”

“Don’t mention it. As long as you hold up your end of the bargain, you shouldn’t have any problems.”

“That won’t be too bad.” She took out her wallet and spun the credit card in her fingers. “I already decided what I’m spending my money on.”

“And what would that be?”

“Another trip to ramen. First things first, I’m getting a do-over of that day.”

“Won’t it be crowded?”

Weiss tossed her hair and smiled. “Then I’ll just have to reserve the whole restaurant for an hour. It won’t be much trouble.”

“Just how much is your allowance?”

Her smile grew smug. “It’s enough.” Then the smile vanished. “So, what is your relationship with Cinder?”

Cardin groaned inwardly as he attempted to navigate the social and political equivalent of a minefield full of Grimm. Suggest too strongly he was with Cinder, and he could find himself even more tightly wound around her fingers. Play it too casual, and he’d risk offending Cinder.”

“Too early to tell,” he said, picking the most non-committal response he could think of. “It would be a politically advantageous match, but the currents of politics may change on a whim.”

Weiss blushed and went on. “There – there are rumors that, well, you know, the two of you, um, shared a bed together.”

“I suppose we did.”

Weiss looked at him incredulously. “What, that’s it?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, you know, the two of you… you know what? Never mind. Let’s just go.”

Cardin studied her stiff shoulders and tight frown from behind as they walked. He figured that had been about as well as he could have come out of it, but he’d have to patch things up with Weiss if he wanted to get closer to her father. Judging by her posture, however, words would have to wait.

That very afternoon, Weiss dragged all four teams back onto the Bullhead, through the crowds, and to the same ramen restaurant they had eaten at last week. He wasn’t sure how Nora and Ren had time to get into their costumes, but Ren’s throwing stars and Nora’s wooden clogs were both missing.

The orders were largely the same, but this time around, Blake ordered the pork tonkotsu. Smiling at her, Cardin called for a gyokai shio, Blake’s choice, piled high with extra scallops. It lacked the heat he liked from the miso broth, but it made up for it with rich, subtle flavors from the seafood, and the tender, buttery scallops.

Once they all had their food, Weiss called for a group photo. She handed her Scroll to the bartender and had everyone gather around. Cardin made sure he got a prominent spot towards the front of the group, right next to Weiss.

With the obligatory photo session done, Cardin returned to his seat. He drained the broth and left a few scallops in his bowl.

“I can’t quite finish mine. Does anyone want my scallops?” He smiled at Blake. She tightened her jaw and looked away.

“Ooh, scallops?” Nora asked. “Do they still have their shells?”

Cardin held one up with his chopsticks.

“Aww, the poor little baby is homeless! I’ll take them in.”

Cardin passed his bowl over. Nora tipped it to her mouth and swallowed the scallops whole. She patted her stomach and said, “Welcome home! I’ll send you a house-warming gift later.”

The bartender set the bill in front of Weiss. Cardin checked the time on his Scroll, just past two. Weiss handed the bartender her credit card and signed a generous tip on the receipt.

Cinder cornered him once they got back. Once they were locked inside her room, she said, “You had something to do with that, didn’t you?”

Cardin nodded. No point in denying it.

“You’re trying to get close to Mr. Schnee, aren’t you? It’s a dangerous move.”

“I thought if anyone would have any information on odd purchases Beacon had made, it would be him.”

That took Cinder aback. She considered him for a moment before saying, “A clever idea. I will handle him.”

“You don’t trust me to look into the matter myself?”

She ran her fingers through her hair, separated out a slender strand, and twined it around her fingers. Staring at the tangled locks, she said, “It is of no consequence, I suppose. Just be sure to send me every report he gives you.”

“I wouldn’t consider doing otherwise.”


	27. Mixed Signals

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not much to mention this time around. That date I mentioned last time went alright, well enough at least to warrant a second one sometime in the future. It’s been more of the usual this week, and I get the whole weekend off this time around, so horray.

\----------

The following morning, Cardin lumbered out of bed for an early breakfast. It wasn’t quite the early start Weiss had forced on him, but early enough to rush over to the CCT and catch Mr. Schnee in his office.

On his way to the docks, he went to Cinder’s room. He had half-expected no answer when he knocked on the door, but Mercury opened it almost immediately. He invited him to come with him to the CCT. Mercury was in the middle of turning down his invitation when Cinder rapped on her bedframe. He flinched and said he would be happy to come with him.

“Mind filling me in on what this is all about?” Mercury asked as they went to the Bullhead docks.

“I’m calling Mr. Schnee this morning. Cinder wants to keep tabs on it.”

They walked in awkward silence for a minute. Cardin mulled over how to start a conversation and decided to try where they had left off.

“What was your dad like? You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to.”

For a while, Mercury didn’t say anything. It wasn’t until they had strapped into the Bullhead that he said, “An asshole. There were only two things he enjoyed, his job and his booze. He trained me so he’d have a second man on the mission, a fallback in case the job went wrong, or a decoy.” He snorted. “Maybe he meant what he said about raising me to stand on my own two feet, but he had a hell of a way of showing it.” He slapped his feet together and looked up at him. “What about you? Any daddy issues you’d like to get off your chest?”

“My story’s not that different from yours.”

“Yeah right. Did he beat you within an inch of your life if you were too slow?”

“I got switched when I was a kid anytime I had trouble reading.” Cardin cleared his throat. “I trust you’ll keep this to yourself?”

“You keep my secrets, and I’ll keep yours.”

Cardin raised an eyebrow. “Even from Cinder?”

“Well, maybe not her. I’ll keep them from Emerald though.”

“Fair enough. So, I have reading problems. When I was younger, my father thought I was just being stubborn and tried to beat me into reading better. It wasn’t until I was seven that he learned it was a mental condition. Didn’t stop him from trying, but at least the beatings stopped. He would have me stuck in a chair for hours on end with stacks of papers to read. Day after day, it was hour after hour of reading. There were times I wanted to smack my face on the table.”

“Let me guess, it didn’t work?”

“It helped. I can manage a paragraph or two just fine, and I can fake it with longer documents, but no matter how hard I try, my eyes keep sliding off the page.”

Mercury shook his head. “Lame. Mine’s worse.”

“The whole train until you drop thing, right? Did that too. When I wasn’t glued to a chair learning finance, politics, or reading, I was in the sparring ring with Gideon. I learned a little bit of everything and a lot of my main weapon.”

“You don’t seem that good with your mace.”

“And who said my mace was my main weapon?”

Mercury nodded. “At least your dad cared. Mine’s still worse.”

“Really? What did he do?”

“I’d rather not talk about that.”

“Let me guess, not exactly on the right side of the law? A thief, maybe?”

“An assassin.”

Cardin felt his heart stop, but he forced himself to smile. “Did he work out of Vale, or somewhere else?”

“Mistral, but he’d fly out once in a while.” He stared out the window. “Those were the good times. He’d be gone for weeks, and I’d hunt and eat my own food.”

“You told me your secret. Only fair I tell you one of mine?”

Mercury turned around. “Oh? Let’s hear it.”

“Do you know how I got this implant?” Cardin asked, tapping his nose.

He got a queasy look on his face. “Yang, right? I heard a rumor about it.”

Cardin smiled. “My doing. Yang did break my nose, but that was after I got the implant.” He leaned back and felt at the implant, running his finger over the thin sheet of skin over it. “When I was six, my father had me attend primary school over at Patch. It’s a smaller school, well-funded, and far away from the intrigues of Vale’s private school. So, there was a Faunus in the classroom. I told my father about it one night, and he told me to make that boy’s life a living hell. I asked why I should, when they weren’t doing anything to me.”

Mercury’s face twisted. “Ouch. He hit you for that?”

“With his goblet of wine. He hadn’t even finished it. Took weeks to get the stains out of the carpet.”

“So, what, he broke your nose because he wanted you to be a good little racist?”

“Not exactly. I’m willing to bet most nobles aren’t really racist. It’s a convenient tool to appeal the public. With White Fang sentiment as it is, all it takes is an accusation of being pro-Faunus to alienate you from all the Commons politicians. But that’s not the point. He broke my nose to make me hate him, to make it so other Dukes would be tempted to use me to undermine or even eliminate the Duchy of Winchester.”

“So, it was a trap.”

“Exactly. He caught a Cirilian spy among the servants that way. He tried to coax me into slipping a poison into his wine. I was supposed to get caught, and the Cirilians would use that to have me discredited at the time of their choosing.”

Mercury rubbed at his temples. “I’m getting a headache just listening to this. Is it like this for you all the time?”

“Yeah, pretty much.”

“Ouch.” After a pause, Mercury smiled and said, “My dad’s still worse.”

“Congratulations. What’s your going rate?”

Mercury blinked. “My what?”

“You know, your fees, price, the quantity of lien it takes to introduce someone I don’t like to the pointy end of your preferred method of murder.”

“I never really thought about that.”

Cardin hesitated before asking, “Well, how much is Cinder paying you?”

“You know, I have no idea.”

“She didn’t tell you?”

“She came over to my dad’s place looking for him.”

“She took you instead?”

Mercury looked away. “My dad had retired. She settled for me.” With a shrug, he said, “I went along for kicks, mostly.”

Cardin raised an eyebrow. “Is retirement your euphemism for a job well done?”

“What makes you think I killed him?”

“First off, you connected the dots pretty fast.” Cardin smiled as Mercury swore under his breath. “And second, do you really expect me to believe that, after all you’ve been through, you wouldn’t kill him the first chance you got? Not to mention, there’s no way Cinder would take a half-trained assassin if there’s a professional killer under the same roof.”

Mercury shifted his feet. He tapped on his kneecap, lost in thought, until he said, “Even now, I’m not really sure why I did it. I hated him, don’t get me wrong, but that day was one of the better ones. I only got a few bruises during the sparring, and he called it off early to check on his mail. He started drinking, and after his first bottle, I thought it would be a perfect time to kill him. So, I did.”

“How did you do it?”

“I tried to slit his throat, but he was ready for it. Blocked it with his Aura, but I kept sawing away at him. It turned into a brawl, and a stray Dust shot hit his booze cabinet. The whole house went up in flames. I kicked some burning alcohol into his eyes, and while he was blinded, I kicked his face in.”

Cardin listened and nodded at all the right times. Once the story was done, Mercury watched him, hands on his legs, stroking a spot on his thighs.

“I just told you how I killed my own dad, and you haven’t twitched a muscle.”

There was tension in Cardin’s chest, but he had kept it from his face. “I might have to do the same some day. Not myself, not when I’d get implicated. I’d have to hire an assassin for the job.”

“How well do you pay?”

“Better than Cinder.”

Mercury chuckled. “Tell you what? When that day comes, I’ll offer you a discount.”

“What’s a discount on a price tag of zero?”

“Yeah, I need to have a word with Cinder about that.”

The Bullhead touched down near the CCT. A short walk and a quick conversation with the receptionist later, they had a private room. Cardin sat down in the chair and typed in the number he had copied yesterday, while Mercury leaned against the wall on the right. Cardin waved him further aside so he would be out of the camera’s sight.

The receptionist gave a start when she saw his face. “I’m sorry, but this is a private extension. Might I ask how you got this number?”

“I was with Weiss during her call yesterday and took the liberty of copying this number. I would appreciate it if you could tell Mr. Schnee that the Winchester ducal heir is on the line and has an offer regarding his daughter that he may wish to consider.

Her eyes widened a touch, and she bowed her head. “Yes sir. I will convey your message at once. Please hold.”

The screen went dark while the receptionist transferred to another line. After half a minute, the receptionist came back on and transferred him to Jacques. The man’s expression was wary and guarded, tense around the eyes and chin, leaning forward expectantly.

“I am not pleased to hear that you had overheard yesterday’s call.”

“Weiss asked me to be there.”

“And I take it you were responsible for planting ideas of blackmail in her head?”

“I encouraged her to reconcile with you. Had I done nothing, she would either have tried to get a job in Vale, or she would have tightened her wallet. Either way, you wouldn’t have gotten what you wanted.”

“True.” He stroked his mustache. His light-blue eyes took in every twitch of Cardin’s face, searching for clues of his intent. Cardin kept himself relaxed, neutral, perfectly calm, waiting for Mr. Schnee to break the silence.

“You said you have a proposal regarding Weiss?”

“I do. Klein is her favorite servant, correct?”

“Yes.” Jacques’ expression darkened. “The man is good at what he does, but far too often he goes behind my back to satisfy Weiss’ whims.”

“I recommend sending him over.”

One of Jacques’ white eyebrows rose. “Oh? And how can I trust any report I receive from him?”

“You don’t have to. I can also give you reports. That way, if Klein tries to deceive you, you’ll know the truth.”

“But then, I would be relying on your report, wouldn’t I? How would I know you can be trusted?”

Cardin shrugged. “I’m in no position to double-cross you. You’re aware of my family’s unfortunate situation, correct.” Jacques nodded. “Servants are allowed to visit Beacon, but they can’t remain on the premises after hours. They also aren’t allowed to attend Beacon’s classes or go on field trips. As an added bonus, I can keep Weiss from committing any political faux-pas, and I can give her advice on how to handle meetings with Dukes.”

“A tempting offer. What do you want in return?”

Cardin let himself smile. “I’m hoping to win the Vytal Festival. To that end, I’ve been gathering as much information as possible on the other teams. School records give me plenty of information to work with, but there’s still more I’d like to know. Specifically, what kind of Dust they’re planning to use.”

“You want access to SDC’s business records? That’s illegal, you know.”

“You and I both know there’s loopholes around that.”

Mr. Schnee studied the papers on his desk while he mulled over Cardin’s request. “I suppose there are. Is that all you require?”

Cardin glanced at Mercury. Judging by the sudden glint in Jacques’ eyes, he didn’t miss the signal. Trying to solicit further help from Jacques held its risks, but months had gone by, and he was no closer to understanding Cinder’s motives. With his stomach tying itself in knots, Cardin held up his left hand, out of sight of Mercury’s eyes. While the conversation went on, he gave Russell’s number in binary, bending his four fingers in different ways to express each number, repeating it three times to ensure he got the signal.

“I would also appreciate access to high-quality Dust. Even with General Ironwood’s efforts, the rarer kinds of Dust are scarce in Vale’s stores.”

“Which would you like?”

“Gravity Dust.”

“Ironwood should have some to spare. I’ll have a word with him.”

Cardin hadn’t even thought of the General. Considering Cinder’s meteoric rise to power, he had likely done his own research into her past as well. Perhaps through him, he could even see if Ozpin knew anything. But if he approached Ironwood directly, Cinder would know, and he can’t imagine Cinder being pleased by that.

“Send the General my regards,” he said. “Now, supposing I do go up against Weiss in the tournament, do you have any problem with me winning against her?”

“To the contrary, Mr. Winchester, I would appreciate it if she lost. While a victory would be good for family prestige, it would hardly do for her to get scooped up by Ozpin.” His expression grew haggard and cold. “I’ve lost enough daughters to that kind of life.”

“I will do what I can to make sure she remains the Heiress. I’ll give my first report this time next week. If you could send the Dust records to my personal Scroll at your earliest convenience, I would appreciate it.”

Cardin wrote the first two numbers of Russell’s number before crossing them out with a single line, and below it, wrote his full number. He held it up for Jacques to copy both his numbers and the two crossed-out digits. For all of Weiss’ naivete, it appeared that Jacques had a far better understanding of subterfuge and deception.

“Now that we have business out of the way, why not a bit of small talk. What are your plans for the day?”

“A shareholder’s meeting, and dinner with one of my major backers. A rather dull day, if I may say so. And you?”

“Busy. I’ll be training until late in the evening, and I’ll have to go to bed at around ten for some early morning exercises.”

Jacques nodded and wrote down the time he mentioned. “As interesting as this call has been, I’m afraid I am out of time. I’ll have those reports sent to you just before bed.”

Anticipation bubbled up in Cardin’s chest. It was a slim hope, but Jacques resources and his isolation from Valean politics might be the break he needed. “I look forward to seeing them.”

When the call ended, Cardin turned to Mercury. “You got all that?”

Mercury held up his Scroll, which was still recording. “How’d you know?”

“It’s what I would’ve done.”

Mercury put the Scroll away and held open the door. “Why did you ask for the records of student purchases?”

“If Ozpin wanted to hide something, that’s the perfect way to do it. Because Beacon is funded through taxpayer lien, every expense normally goes through the Defense Committee. Any unusual purchases would catch the eye of any Duke watching him, and trust me, they all are. The student requisitions, on the other hand, were a direct capital expense paid through the Commerce Committee for the Vytal Festival, and that transaction is one lump sum, not itemized by each team. That would only tell you how much of each Dust type is bought, not which team is using it. Because of that, only the SDC knows the full details of each individual order, as they’re the ones preparing the packages for each team.”

“You lost me at taxes.”

During lunch, Cinder handed him a slip of paper. It had the words ‘almond’ and ‘rugged terrain’ written on it. Sifting through his notes on other teams, Cardin found Team ALMD, the lowest seed from Vacuo. He shared this news with his teammates.

“So, Cinder’s rigging the game for us?” Russell said. “Sweet!”

“How is she even doing that?” Dove asked. “Isn’t the process randomized?”

“Not exactly. It’s scripted to pick teams on a probability established by what seed they are. If someone were to tweak the values, and say, ascribe Team CRDL a zero, they would be guaranteed to fight the lowest seed.” Sky shrugged. “Or something like that. I don’t know how it works. Heck, how does she even have control over the stadium?”

“Keep this to yourselves. If we get accused of cheating, Cinder’s going to have us take the fall.”

Russell grimaced. “So that’s why she’s helping us. Let me guess, she’s getting easy matches too?”

“I don’t know. Just keep quiet and stay sharp. There’s no telling what she might do next.”

He felt himself tingle with nervous energy as the day wore on, as the clock ticked closer and closer to ten PM. It took all his willpower to appear calm and serene, to look at Cinder without any suspicious tells, no downcast eyes or lengthy stares, no twitching or sudden tilts of his head. She watched him more closely than usual, but her behavior indicated that she had gleaned nothing more from Mercury’s recording.

A little before ten, he switched his and Russell’s Scrolls and told his teammates he was going for a jog before bed. The gym on the bottom floor was empty, so Cardin took a treadmill and had it set on the lowest speed that would make it look as though he were jogging. For good measure, he turned off the Scroll’s speaker setting, forcing him to place the device close to his mouth when he spoke into it.

The moment the hour struck, Russell’s Scroll rang. Cardin cheered internally as he picked it up.

“You were being watched during that call.” Jacques tone was grave, but relaxed.

“Yes, by someone whose interests might clash with yours. Someone who has amassed a lot of power in Vale in a short amount of time.”

“Cinder.” The answer was immediate and bitter. “I was ill-pleased to learn she had a hand in spreading out Atlas military all over Vale. I had them brought there to protect my investment, only to find them babysitting some rural settlements.”

“There is something she wants that Ozpin has,” he said, glancing out the door. He was alone. “And I don’t think it’s wise to let her have it.”

“You need me to help you figure out what that something is.” There was a long pause, broken by the opening of drawers and shuffling of papers. “Yes, I might be able to do that. General Ironwood has put in some unusual orders over the past couple years and had them shipped to Beacon. From what my sources tell me, it is a means of transferring Aura from one person to another.”

Cardin nearly dropped the Scroll. He felt his chest go numb, his legs plodded forward on the treadmill of their own accord, and his jaw hung slack as the implications of such a device sunk in. He groped for the off button and shut off the treadmill before he stumbled.

“Why is Ironwood building it in Beacon?”

“That’s a good question, and I’m afraid I don’t have that answer. If it helps your investigation any, some of the items in question were quite large, most notably two human-sized glass chambers purchased last year. Such a thing won’t be easy to hide.”

Cardin racked his brain, but he hadn’t seen such a thing in Beacon. He’d have to check with some of the Committees, but it could’ve been hidden in any number of them – trade, defense, science, foreign relations. No doubt the components were split between all of them, making the whole contraption all but impossible to find in Vale’s paperwork.

“Why are you telling me all of this?”

“Because you’re desperate. Your life is balanced on the edge of a knife, and Cinder holds the blade. I can trust you to do everything in your power to stay alive, and if I can improve your chances, you’ll do anything I ask.”

“What do you want?” Cardin’s voice came out as a hoarse whisper, but it carried through the CCT signal.

“Keep my daughter safe. Keep her as far away from the Dukes as possible, and keep her away from Cinder. If possible, convince her to come home.”

Cardin chuckled weakly. “I don’t think I can. She wants nothing to do with Atlas.”

Jacques sighed. “Yes, she has always found it stifling here. She wants to inherit the company one day, but she doesn’t want to put up with any of the responsibilities that come with it. I hardly know what to do with her.”

“I’ll talk to her. Once I know what she wants, I can steer her down the right path.”

“I’m glad to hear it. So, as for future correspondences, we need to work out a more efficient means than a phone call while you’re jogging.”

Cardin grinned sheepishly at the words. “The gym’s the only place I can be sure I’m not overheard.”

“Yes, but I can hear the treadmill in the background. I’m sure I can work something out with Ironwood, say, have him invite you over for some chess.”

“Where he can pass on that Gravity Dust.”

“That too.”

“Are you sure we should use him as an intermediary? I can’t imagine he’ll be happy if he finds out we’re looking into his pet project.”

Jacques chuckled. “James has many talents, but subterfuge isn’t one of them. He has dozens of such projects, and I have fingers in them all. Some of what he does is absolutely fascinating – take for instance, the machine with an Aura. It’s being field tested as we speak.”

“A machine with Aura? Did they transfer a person’s Aura into it?”

“A good theory, but this project was built in Atlas. Unless they had a second transfer machine here, I don’t see how it was possible. No, the lead scientist claims to have made a soul from scratch, though how it was done is known only to the doctor himself. Even James doesn’t know all of how it works.”

“But that’s not what Cinder would want with it, now is it?”

“No, it’s not. My best guess is, she would want to use it to steal someone’s Aura. Their Semblance would likely come with it.”

“Making her more powerful in the process.”

“The wrong Semblance in the hands of someone with that much influence might spell the end of our nations.” Jacques cleared his throat and said, “You’ve given me far more to think about than I would’ve liked. I had expected Cinder to firmly establish herself in Vale, but if her current goal involves such a machine, it speaks of far broader designs.”

“What will you tell Ironwood?”

It took Jacques half a minute to find his answer. “It would be too risky telling him anything. I’ll give him the usual politics lingo that flies right over his head.”

“What about Ozpin? I might be able to give him a message through the General.”

“Hmm. Contacting Ozpin might be wise. I’ll handle that once we get more information. I don’t wish to run the risk that you may be compromised.”

Cardin’s jaw tightened. “If I am, I’m probably dead.”

“Then see to it you’re not. Good night.”

The line cut out, leaving Cardin holding the inert Scroll. As he turned it off, he caught sight of a little black symbol on the upper right corner of the screen, but when he powered the Scroll back on, it was gone.


	28. Round One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had an author’s notes for the last chapter, but I don’t think I saved it to the document before submitting it. Oops. Well, I didn’t have much to say last time, and I don’t have much this time either.
> 
> That date I mentioned two weeks ago went alright, but so far there hasn’t been a second yet. I don’t think anything will come of it in the long run, but I’m giving it a try anyways.
> 
> The story passed a hundred reviews, thanks for all the feedback! It’s nice to see people are excited about the machinations, I was worried people might feel the story is slowing down too much. Well, never fear, the Vytal Festival is finally underway.

**\----------**

The city had nearly reached its boiling point by the time the start of the Vytal Festival was announced. Cheers roared in the streets as the Bullhead docks opened to fly people up to the massive floating stadium. From Cardin’s dorm room, it looked as though swarms of fruit flies danced in the sky just outside his window, congregating around a floating gray marble.

Between reading the reports Jacques had sent him, reviewing Team ALMD’s files with Sky, and digging through Committee records with Cinder, Cardin’s eyes felt ready to shrivel up and fall out of their sockets. He leaned back in bed and massaged his temples, trying in vain to rub away the throbbing in his head.

Russell briefly glanced at Cardin’s scroll, which had five files open at once. “Jeez, no wonder why you’re wiped. How do you manage all that reading?”

“Somehow.” Cardin groaned and sat up. “You wouldn’t be able to read that stuff aloud for me, could you? It’s technically not schoolwork.”

Shaking his head, Russell said, “Still counts. Besides, I don’t even understand half the stuff on these.”

Russell was pointing at the Committee of Foreign Relation’s shipping manifest on Atlesian equipment into the country over the past two years. He had been hoping to narrow it down to everything headed for Beacon, but the customs office hadn’t bothered to document where the items were going. To make matters worse, it appeared as though General Ironwood made a habit of bringing experimental prototypes back and forth, which were given project names, but were never explicitly catalogued per some treaty regarding intellectual property. Odds are, whatever components were brought over for the Aura transfer machine, they were smuggled within those legal loopholes.

“That’s the point. If these documents were easy to understand, there would be a lot of politicians in deep trouble.”

“What do you mean?” Sky asked.

“It’d make it easy to find all the embezzlement, forgery, and smuggling happening behind the scenes. If you wanted to bring, I don’t know, Vacuan silk into Vale without paying the extortionate tariffs and taxes both nations charge, stuff a diplomat’s luggage full of the stuff, ship his actual luggage on a separate vessel, and swap the two before he leaves for Vacuo. How do you think my dad got all those rugs in the foyer?”

Sky and Russell looked at him, unsure how to continue the conversation. Dove put in, “Have you made up your mind who to take with you?”

That had been a tough decision. Russell had speed and great coordination, but he lacked any ranged options. Dove had range with his sword’s hidden pistol, but was the slowest of the three. Sky had the whole package, but odds were he’d perform poorly in front of a large audience.

“Let’s see how the first round goes. There’s no rush to pick.”

Dove shrugged and went back to his Scroll. Russell took advantage of the changed topic to say, “When are you planning to use, you know?” He mimed pulling on a chain.

“Only when I need to, preferably the second round of singles. The longer we wait, the harder it’ll be for others to adapt.”

There was silence as the others nodded in agreement. After a moment, Sky said, “It hardly feels real, doesn’t it? For weeks, it’s all we’ve been working for. It got pushed back a whole month. And now, it’s here.”

Russell grinned and flashed his daggers. “It’s finally time to take home that trophy. I can’t wait to see the looks on everyone’s faces when Cardin goes all out.”

Dove shrugged. “Whatever happens, happens. It’s not like anyone’s expecting anything of us.”

“They are after Cardin beat Pyrrha,” Sky said with a grimace. “I’m getting my stomach tied up in knots just thinking of it.”

“Then don’t think about it.” Cardin put a hand on the haft of his mace, which leaned against his bedframe. “We’ll do it just like we trained, and we’ll win. That’s all there is to it.”

Cardin’s team had drawn near last, and just as Cinder had promised, they were going up against Team ALMD. They were among the last of the students to arrive at the stadium and had to settle for seats near the top row in the student section. Russell had a tub of popcorn in each arm and two trays of hot dogs, chips, and other snacks in each hand. Sky held the sodas, four jumbo-sized cups wrapped in one arm, the other stretched protectively in front as he wriggled through to their seats. Dove had his Scroll in one hand and a covered platter of nachos in the other, and Cardin brought four sets of binoculars. Snacks sorted out, drinks jammed into cup holders, and binoculars distributed, Team CRDL settled in and waited for the Festival to begin.

Team RWBY had gone first, facing Team ABRN from Haven on a field of ice and molten rock. It seems a waste of Dust in Cardin’s eyes, but perhaps that’s the point. Such extravagant use of Dust might underplay its scarcity, or reinforce the notion that, despite the White Fang, the tournament will continue without interruption. All it would take is a well-placed comment about how this Dust could go to keeping families’ homes warm or preserving food, and there’d be plenty of bitterness towards the Festival.

It was a one-sided fight from the beginning. ABRN had unwisely chosen to fight fire with fire, pitting their heavy-hitter against Yang, while their agile harasser got tripped up by Blake’s ribbon and knocked out of bounds. Weiss guarded Ruby while she sniped the competition from a ridge in the ice. Within minutes, they swept the rest of the team with a flashy group attack.

Jaune’s fight was even more lop-sided. As if BRNZ didn’t have bad enough luck to square off against Pyrrha, they did so with the lightning arena in play. One minute later, Nora was racing through the forest, scattering trees like bowling pins and knocking the daylights out of anyone she ran into. Jaune and Pyrrha mopped up the stragglers, while Ren settled into a nook in the mountainside, watching the battle unfold.

For the last match, they hadn’t bothered with the theatrics of spinning the wheel. Spectators were already chanting Cardin’s name as they walked down the stairs to the staging area.

“Dude, they must’ve seen the video,” Russell whispered.

“I guess they didn’t see the one where I got my ass handed to me by the class clown.”

“He’s not bad now,” Dove said. “His swordplay’s gotten a lot better.”

Sky wrung his hands on his halberd and lagged behind the others. “Hey, can we focus on not losing this round?”

“What, scared of those pipsqueaks?” Russell asked. “We’re going up against Shade’s benchwarmers. We’ll be back in the stands munching on nachos before you know it.”

“Well, the day’s done after this, so we won’t be-”

The conversation broke off as Team CRDL walked into the sunlight. They met Team ALMD at the center. All four guys had tan skin and bleached hair, as though they had baked in the desert sun. Each wore a white vest, baggy black shorts, and leather combat boots. Their leader had an imposing claymore with sockets for Dust vials, while the other three had different variations of guns – two pistols, a shotgun, and an assault rifle with an underslung grenade launcher. Each had Dust vials strapped to their waists, encased in metal to hide their type, but their transcripts indicated they were practiced with Earth Dust.

For a split second, Cardin feels a knot of tension forming in his gut as he thinks of fighting this group in an exposed area, but he remembers Cinder’s note. Team ALMD wouldn’t necessarily be hampered in a close quarters fight, but they would prefer a long-range shootout against Cardin’s melee-minded team.

As Cinder had promised, one half came up forested, and the other half were valley crags. Earth Dust shimmered in the air, dragging the stone of the arena floor up with it. Within seconds, fanciful rock structures dotted half of the arena. For the other half, the floor slid aside to expose a premade arrangement of trees.

ALMD looked back and forth between the two terrain types before splitting in three groups. The shotgun went for the crags, the pistol and assault rifle rushed into the forest, and the claymore remained in the central clearing, charging at Cardin. Dove ran after the shotgun, while Sky and Russell went to hunt the two in the forest.

Cardin met the claymore head-on, catching the length of the blade on the haft of his mace. He twisted his weapon, forcing the claymore wide, and slammed the butt of his mace into the man’s face. Aura flared as it absorbed the blow, and the Vacuan student winced, backing away a pace. Before Cardin could press the advantage, the Vacuan had a knife in hand. It flew from his fingers and slammed into Cardin’s breastplate, bouncing off with a metallic clatter.

There were two more knives in his fingers, but Cardin rushed forward, and they were tucked back into his jacket. The claymore-wielder was strong, possibly stronger than Cardin, and his weapon had the advantage in open ground, but Cardin used his Semblance to move more nimbly, trading a percent or two to duck under an overhand blow and strike a thigh for five. After a minute of wild blows and careful strikes, Cardin was at eighty, while his opponent had dropped into the yellow.

“Is that all you got?” the Vacuan asked, panting hard. His claymore was scraping against the ground.

Cardin pointed at the overhead display. “Last I checked, I’m the one winning.”

He let out a wheezy chuckle and fitted a Dust vial into his claymore. “Not for long.”

Cardin backed away, expecting the ground in front of him to erupt, but that proved a mistake. A purple sheen surrounded the claymore, and as if the weapon were yanked forward, the Vacuan sprinted at him. His mace barely parried the thrust, only for the weapon to dance in an arc and slam into his shoulder. Cardin hit the ground with a thud, rolled, and skidded to a stop. He reflexively raised his mace overhead and was rewarded with a sudden pressure on the hilt. Shoving a knee under him, Cardin rose, shrugging off the blow and staggering to his feet.

The sound of the buzzer drew his eyes upward, only after the Vacuan looked. Russell had been eliminated by ring-out, soot-stained and coughing into his shirt. Over in the forest, half of the trees were burning, and the two Vacuans were on the other side of a wall of ice. As he watched, Sky pole-vaulted over the wall, using a high-caliber round to gain extra height. He fired a second round as he landed on top of the pistol-wielder, smashing his Aura straight into the red and sounding the buzzer again.

Cardin’s stomach sank as he took in the aggressive use of Dust. Team ALMD knew they don’t have a chance of winning the whole tournament. They only cared about not being eliminated in the first round. So, rather than ration out their Dust like other teams, they were spending all of theirs right now.

A loud grating sound came from behind him. Cardin turned just enough to see walls of rock rising in the crags, sealing off a small partition. The Vacuan with the shotgun stood on top of one section, aiming into the hole.

Cardin sprinted into the crags, with the leader hot on his heels. The claymore swung at him, but the narrow walls forced the Vacuan to make smaller, weaker strikes that scratched ineffectually at his armor.

As he approached the shotgun, the leader let out a shout. Cardin spotted a loose outcropping in the wall, swung his mace at it, and gouged out a fist-sized rock. With a dash of Semblance, Cardin hurled the rock at the gunner up ahead. He leapt aside but lost his footing and fell into the hole. Moments later, the buzzer sounded, with Dove the victor, clinging to a few percent of his Aura.

Before Cardin can break him out, the leader caught up to him. Though the claymore moves far faster, the enclosed space allows Cardin to block every strike. The narrow space worked against him as well, preventing him from closing in. Every once in the while, the Vacuan threw a knife and went for a wild downward strike, but Cardin was ready for the gambit each time.

As they fought, Cardin watched the weapon closely. Gravity Dust tended to burn itself out faster than other types, and judging by the transcripts, they haven’t had any experience with the rarer varieties. As the glow lost a fraction of its luster, Cardin funneled all his Semblance into his weapon and armor and leapt up a crag. Bouncing off the wall, Cardin leapt at the leader just as his weapon’s Dust supply gave out. The claymore hit the ground with a thud, abandoned by its wielder. He pulled a knife, but Cardin shifted the Semblance, and the full tenfold weight of his mace crashed into his opponent. His Aura shattered, drifting away in fading motes of light, and his shoulder jerked back. The Vacuan hit the ground with a groan, massaging the dislocated shoulder.

Up in the stands, Port and Oobleck winced at the blow and commentated on the spectacular strength their student had just displayed. Vytal Festival commentators tended to be biased for their home school, but the two professors took it to comical heights at times. Port waxing eloquent on how Cardin remined him of himself at that age made him want to smash his head against the nearest boulder.

His attention is brought back to the board when Oobleck suddenly announces the last of ALMD eliminated by ring-out. Sky had a third of his Aura left, while his opponent had nearly half.

“And that’s the round folks, what a finish to the team battles!” Oobleck shouted into his microphone.

“Ah yes, the old charge at your opponent like a screaming maniac trick, works just as well as it did in my youth. Pushing with his halberd was a nice touch.”

The display showed a replay of Sky’s wild charge into the assault rifle’s spray of bullets. Sky’s opponent had tried to sidestep the charge, but his vest snagged on the recurved blade. As a last-ditch effort, the Vacuan dropped his gun and tried to swing the halberd around, but Sky had simply dropped the weapon, letting momentum force out his opponent.

“Does anything stand out to you about this battle?” Oobleck asked.

“Team CRDL’s ability to adapt to the heavy firepower ALMD brought to this battle certainly helped. ALMD also made poor use of their Dust supply, exhausting all the Dust of two fighters just to eliminate Russell.” Professor Port stroked his mustache. “Splitting up also wasted their superior ranged capabilities, but in terrain such as this, they would’ve had a hard time forming a firing line.”

“Quite so. It appears Team CRDL was quite fortunate in the terrain selection.”

A chill crept up his spine. Did they know? Had Cinder made a deal with Beacon staff to rig the games, or had they uncovered Cinder’s tampering?

As he walked out the stadium’s exit, Teams RWBY was waiting for him. Ruby was bouncing up and down with excitement, Weiss held herself aloof with a smile on her face, and Yang and Blake were both reserved.

“I can’t believe six of our teams made it!” Ruby said. “I mean, there’s us, you, JNPR, and some upper classmen, but can you believe it! We’re in the doubles round!”

“Was there ever any doubt?” Weiss asked. “We are all exceptionally talented. Anything less than making it to singles is out of the question.”

“Of course it is.” Yang grinned and wrapped an arm around her sister. “I’m carrying this team, aren’t I?”

“Excuse me? If I recall, the only reason we got that team KO was because of my glyphs.”

“Oh really? I suppose you were the one doing the punching?”

“Yang, Weiss, stop!” Ruby wriggled out from under her sister. Her two teammates fell silent at the command. “You’re both going to fight together in the next round, so you better get your act together!”

Yang and Weiss both looked at each other sheepishly while Blake pointedly elbowed Ruby and nodded towards Cardin.

“What?” Ruby asked. “It’s not like it’s some big secret.”

As Weiss rants on about how yes, it is a big secret, and you shouldn’t be telling just anyone, not even your classmates, because anyone can overhear you and come up with strategies to counter her and Yang.

“It’s not a big deal Weiss,” Yang said, with a touch of heat. “Just cool it.”

“What, I’m supposed to just stay silent while our leader gives away all our secrets?”

Ruby looks like she wants to curl up in a corner, and Blake pointedly looks away from the arguing pair. Cardin went towards Blake, before his eyes snapped up to her bow, and instead approached Ruby. She shied away from him, but she didn’t leave.

“Why those two?” he asked.

“Well, I, uh…” Ruby’s eyes darted side to side, as if looking for an escape route. “I’m not that good, since I’m two years behind and all, and Blake didn’t want to. Yang’s the best of us, and Weiss can do a lot with her glyphs, so, yeah, they’re fighting together.”

Considering the strategies he has for fighting Yang, it would be nice having her move on to the singles, but he can’t see a way to change Ruby’s mind.

“Well, good luck with that,” he says instead. We haven’t figured out who we’re sending yet. Bending down to Ruby’s ear, and ignoring how she leans away from him, he whispered, “Me and Russell.”

Ruby flashed an uncertain smile at him. “Right. Yeah. Well, good luck!” She left, and Blake followed after. Weiss and Yang kept arguing as they trailed after her, going back and forth about Ruby’s leadership.

“That’s quite the Dust barrel,” Dove muttered.

“Not our problem.” Cardin gestured down the hall. “Let’s head back while there’s still Bullheads to catch.”

As they rounded the corner to the docks, they found Emerald, leaning against a pillar and looking at her Scroll. A smile touches her lips as she looks up, and she quickly smothered it.

“Cinder wants to talk to you as soon as you get back,” she said.

Russell chuckled and slapped Cardin on the shoulder. “Don’t keep her waiting! We can talk about the matchups in the morning.”

Before Cardin can explain discreetly that Cinder definitely doesn’t want him for anything he’s imagining, the pilot shouts for them to board. Between Russell’s periodic winks and the pleased, predatory gleam in Emerald’s eyes, Cardin’s stomach started doing flips.

They split at Beacon’s docks, Cardin’s three teammates going back to their room and Emerald leading Cardin to the transfer dorms. The door was open when they arrive. Cinder and her team were waiting for him. Emerald strolled over to her bed and sits down, leaving Cardin standing in the middle of them. Nelly smirked, staring at him with mismatched eyes, and Mercury watched him with a vaguely uneasy expression. Cinder paid him no mind, reading something on her Scroll. After a minute of silence passes, she sets the Scroll down, but keeps it on.

“Do you have any idea why I asked you here?”

He could think of several, but he thought it wisest to shake his head. A chill creeps over him as he set his mace next to the door and walked forward.

She picked up the Scroll and pressed play on a recording. Ice-cold needles prickled his skin as the recording played back the secret conversation with Jacques Schnee, with the treadmill humming in the background.

Once the recording was done, Cinder put her Scroll away. “Well?”

Thoughts spun in his head like knives, shiny, reflective, lethal if grabbed by the wrong end. He snatched one and ran with it. “I took a gamble. I suspected he would be wary of your influence and leap at the chance to get more information on you. If he thought I was your pawn, he might hold back Ozpin’s secrets.”

“And you didn’t consult me on this first?”

“We could be overheard, as I evidently was.”

Her eyes narrowed. “You disappoint me, Cardin.”

He fumbled for his Scroll and held it up. “I will transfer the files the moment I get them.”

“The files don’t interest me. I already have more information than you’ll ever get out of that buffoon.”

“Then what do you want with me?” He felt anger rising in his chest, but it’s smothered by fear, like a flame flickering in a blizzard. “Why did you call me here and tip your hand?”

“Why wouldn’t I want to tip a royal straight flush?” She rose from the bed and sauntered to him. Her hand rose to stroke his cheek, and her fingernails slid across his jugular. “We’re going to play a little game, you and I.” Her voice was a sultry whisper, as if she held a candle to his ear. “Do whatever you can to try to stop me. Tell Jacques, or Ironwood, or even Ozpin if you want. It won’t matter in the end.” Her hand squeezes his throat, not tight enough to cut off his breathing, but enough to send twinges of fiery pain as her nails dig into his skin. “And we’ll see how long you can survive.”

He kept his eyes forward, but unfocused, trying to take in everything around him. Emerald has one hand on a gun at her hip, but both Mercury and Nelly hadn’t moved since the exchange began. He knew the door was open behind him, but it took all his willpower not to turn and look, or turn and run.

“Hardly sporting, is it?” Even Cardin didn’t know where he’s going with it. Everything from his ankles to his collarbone feels as though it’s dipped in ice water, while his neck feels afire from Cinder’s touch. “You could slit my throat right now, and no one would bat an eye.”

Cinder chuckled, and her hand withdrew. “I don’t intend to make your death anything crude. I have something special planned for you.”

He suppressed a shiver and put on his bravest smile. “I’m flattered. I suppose I shouldn’t bother pointing how most Dukes wouldn’t appreciate the sudden power struggle my death would start.”

“I’ve already taken care of that.”

Cardin swallowed and nodded. “I guess we’re done here, then.”

“Yes. You may go.”

Cardin turned, struggling not to glance behind his shoulder to make sure Emerald wasn’t going to pounce on him. His hand tightened around the mace as he picked it up. A sigh of relief escaped him when the door clicked shut behind him, but it felt a small, pitiful puff of air compared to the tempest of emotions raging in his heart.

As he walked back, he ruminated over every move he had made since she came to Beacon, every word he’d spoken, every choice he made, and he could think of only one that could have compromised him. When he open the door to his room, his teammates were seated on Sky’s bed, reviewing the bracket he had drawn up. Cardin set his mace down by the door and walked up behind them.

“I’ve drawn up the most probable pairs for the next round,” Sky said, “Based on all the data we’ve drawn up. That Atlesian team with Penny’s going to be a problem, and also Pyrrha, of course, but aside from those two, there’s not much we can’t deal with.”

Cardin didn’t reply. He studied Russell, watching him for sudden glances or twitching muscles, anything that might give him away, but he didn’t seem to notice. But it had to be him. It was Russell’s Scroll, and he had Sky check for bugs on all their devices. Russell must’ve told Cinder he had called the CCT with his Scroll, and it would’ve been trivial from there to track the number and find a recording.

Before anyone could react, Cardin grabbed Russell by the throat, yanked him out of bed, and pinned him against the wall. Russell struggled at first, but he fell limp when Cardin finally slackened his grip.

“How long have you been working for Cinder?” he asked.

Russell wheezed and coughed into his face. “I – I don’t know what you are talking about.”

Cardin tightened his grip, but this time, Russell only tensed and waited for another breath.

“How long?”

“I swear, I don’t know what’s going on. I haven’t talked to her, I haven’t given her anything. I’m still yours, I swear.”

“You are my father’s,” Cardin said through gritted teeth, but he let Russell down. His teammate scrambled away from him and sat behind Dove and Sky. Both of them eyed the door, but they kept their attention on their leader.

Cardin pointed at Sky. “You’re in for the next round. Good night.”

It’s not even past six yet, but none of them say a word as Cardin turns out the lights and curls up under the blankets. After a few minutes, the door opens, and three pairs of feet shuffle out of the room, leaving Cardin alone in the darkness.


	29. Stormclouds

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At nearly two in the morning, I just remembered I hadn’t posted this yet. I’m tired, cranky, and badly in need of that nine-day vacation I’m just about to start. Be glad I finish these things ahead of time.
> 
> Didn't forget about the comment Otter_Boom. I'm glad you found this story to your liking. I took on Cardin because I wanted the challenge, to take what I'd argue is the worst character in RWBY and make them a compelling, dynamic, complicated persona. I know it's not perfect, but I'd like to think it's enjoyable.
> 
> So, bed. Now. Good night.

\----------

The moment Cardin sat up in his bed, Russell started and went for the door. Cardin didn’t stop him. A few moments later, Dove looked him over and followed after Russell. Sky looked tempted to go with them, but instead, he took a deep breath and sat on his bed, facing Cardin.

“So, what happened yesterday?”

Sky might be working for Cinder, or for any other of the Dukes, but he decides it’s safe to tell him. “Long story short, I’m screwed. Cinder doesn’t have any use for me anymore, and she told me to my face that she’ll have me killed.”

Sky’s eyes widened, and he went pale. If he really is working for Cinder, he far underestimated his acting talent. “What are we going to do?”

Cardin felt his eyes narrow at Sky’s self-inclusion. “Nothing I can do at the moment. I don’t think my father will be in any position to help, and she has every politician in the city under her thumb.” He snorted and said, “The only reason I’m still alive is she wants to make a game of it.”

With a furrowed brow, Sky leaned over and rested his chin on his hands. “There’s no point to a game if you can’t lose. Maybe there’s a way you can beat her.”

Suspicion squirms in his gut like an eel. He’s half-tempted to pin him against the wall, but he probably shouldn’t have done that with Russell. Nothing to gain from it. “People like Cinder don’t care whether or not the game is fair. She wants to win, so she’ll make rules that guarantee it.”

Sky nods and stands up. “Want breakfast? I can bring something up for you if you want.”

Anger and suspicion flare up in him. It must’ve shown on his face for a moment, as Sky suddenly backed away from him. The anger vanished, as he realized that poison would hardly be a spectacular death. Whatever Cinder had planned, she wanted to make a show of it, and Sky’s suggestion to bring him a meal was likely his attempt to help Cardin avoid assassination.

“Thanks. I’ll take you up on it.”

Sky smiled uneasily. “Anything you want?”

“Just pile it with whatever. I skipped dinner last night, right?”

“Yeah.” The smile vanished, then appeared again. “I’ll be back in a few minutes. And, uh, I’ll tell Russell you just need some space.”

Cardin nodded. While he was waiting for breakfast, he took out his Scroll. He had two message, one sent at around four in the morning from Jacques, the other from an unknown number that came an hour later. Jacques’ message had a veritable treasure trove of data attached, not only the raw logistics, but broken up by teams. When he scrolled down to Team CMEN, however, he found himself disappointed. They had only requisitioned a couple clips for Emerald’s submachine pistols, an extra case of rounds, and two Dust motors.

The motors, however, caught his eye. They were too big for any kind of weapon, but too small for most machines. On that list, Jacques had a note directing him to a different file. It contained a picture of the specific motor, along with the prosthetic leg it powered. Another note directed him to medical records for a Marcus White, but the attached photo looked like a younger version of Mercury. The age and date of operation roughly lined up with Mercury’s age.

Sky came back with breakfast. While wolfing down scrambled eggs and bacon, he browsed the rest of the files, but found nothing of interest. Once he encrypted the files and moved them next to the rest of his data, he deleted the message and all its attachments. Only then did he notice the second message.

It was from General Ironwood, a request to meet him in his flagship for a game of chess. A Bullhead will arrive for him at ten. With some trepidation, Cardin checked the time. Nine-fifty. He bolts out of bed, throws on the nearest clothing on hand, which happens to be his armor, and sprints through Beacon grounds, using his Semblance the whole way there for the extra speed.

At the docks, a taller version of Weiss stood in front of the Bullhead, tapping her foot and checking a watch. She looks up and frowns as he approaches.

“You’re late,” she said.

“Apologies,” Cardin said between breaths, “Just got the message.”

The woman tsked and waved for him to enter the Bullhead. Cardin follows after her, and his hackles rise when he sees six security droids, the new Atlesian Knight-200 model, sitting at ease around two seats. Their plastic exteriors shine in the morning sun, and their guns are rigidly slung over their shoulders. Empty black faces stare forward, swiveling left to right every five seconds.

The woman took one empty seat and gestured towards the other.

“This seems like overkill,” Cardin said.

“I agree, but the General insisted that I escort you to the battleship as a matter of courtesy. You are, after all, a Ducal heir, so every courtesy should be extended.”

Cardin blinked. “No, I mean the Knights.”

“Oh. Well, you never know what the White Fang might try to do.”

As they approached the battleship soaring over Vale’s outskirts, one of the docks slid open, and the pilot carefully navigated inside. Once the Bullhead was latched into place and the dock was sealed, the Bullhead doors swung open, and the Knights filed out. They line up at attention outside the Bullhead, and more 200 models join them, extending the rows of robots to a door at the other end of the room. The woman led him past the robots, through a security depot where he was forced to leave behind his armor plating and his belt, and down a series of narrow corridors towards the front of the ship.

General Ironwood’s room is right below the bridge, with a window that looks down at the landscape in front of them. His desk, the chairs, bookshelves, planter, light fixtures, and window frames are all done in stark, gleaming steel, rigid, straight lined, every surface meeting at right angles. Even the fern growing next to the window is immaculately trimmed and ramrod straight. Cardin’s eyes flit over the book’s titles, mostly an index of military protocols, but nearer the bottom there’s a few biographies of past generals, some history books, and a guidebook on chess theory, written and signed by Ozpin, thicker than any two books combined.

There are two chairs reserved. The woman took the one in the corner, leaving Cardin the seat directly opposite Ironwood. As he sits, Ironwood takes out his chessboard, a metal case with squares etched into its surface, and sets up the pieces, giving Cardin the black.

“I enjoy chess quite a bit,” Ironwood said as he nudged his king into the exact center of its square, “But Ozpin is… a futile opponent. It’s always a pleasure to play against someone that doesn’t win the moment I move a chess piece.”

Cardin pushed a pawn forward. “I doubt I’ll be much of a challenge for you. I know little more than the rules and the general strategy.”

Once the pawns and knights are pushed forward, their bishops start darting back and forth, probing for an opening. When Cardin’s forced to retreat, Ironwood castles, and Cardin mimics the move.

As they traded pieces, Cardin debated telling Ironwood everything, Cinder, the aura transfer machine, the rigged Vytal Festival, which might get him more information about the secret project and why Cinder wanted it, but he had no proof to back up his claims, and even if he did, he doubted Ironwood would let him have international secrets. Cinder might also accelerate her plans if word spread about her ultimate goal.

So instead, he asks, “How has the deployment gone of the new models?”

Ironwood smiles a bit and pushes a rook forward. “The 200s have been fantastic. No more creaking and clanking for the soldiers to complain about, and there’s been surprisingly few glitches given they’re using a new operating system. They’re also connected to a terminal on board, so any software problems can be resolved by the team here.”

Cardin nodded and pinned the rook with a bishop, but Ironwood moved a pawn within striking distance and forced the bishop away.

“I watched your battle against ALMD. Well done.”

Cardin shrugged. “Kind of a let down. They wasted all their Dust, and they were unskilled.”

“Still, that was a well-timed strike against their leader, as if you knew from experience how long Gravity Dust lasts in a battle.”

With a smile, Cardin asked, “What, asking for Gravity Dust wasn’t enough of a hint?”

Ironwood chuckled and put his king in check. “Don’t worry, I don’t intend on telling my teams. They need to learn for themselves how to study an opponent and use that knowledge to that advantage.”

Cardin wasn’t sure if it was a subtle dig on his perusal of confidential documents, but it wasn’t worth confronting. Two of Cardin’s pawns fell in quick succession, but Cardin managed to swap his last knight for one of Ironwood’s rooks.

“Penny seems quite impressive,” Cardin said. “I expect to see her in the singles bracket.”

Ironwood tensed, a reaction that Cardin noted and wondered about. The General said, “She has met every expectation we had, and I look forward to her continued success.”

“I won’t hold back against her.”

“And I wouldn’t ask.” Ironwood forced himself to relax, leaning back in his chair and scanning the board. After some hesitation, he brought out his queen. Cardin harassed it with a bishop, but he couldn’t keep it under fire for long.

Another ten minutes goes by as Cardin and Ironwood trade pieces. Though the game is a far way from over, Cardin can feel himself slipping farther and farther behind as he loses on the exchanges. Soon, he’s down to a flimsy wall of pawns, a lone rook, and a pinned bishop.

“If you don’t mind my asking, what is your take on the current political situation in Vale?” Ironwood pushed his queen down to check the king. “I’ve heard Ozpin’s take, but he doesn’t have the inside look on ducal politics that you have.

Cardin pushed his king out of harm’s way, which let a knight gouge a hole in his pawn wall. “In a word, ugly. I’m sure you know Cinder’s been pulling the strings lately.”

Ironwood grimaced and took another pawn. “She pushed to have Atlas troops stationed here, then scattered them across Vale. I’m getting eaten alive by the press back home for it.”

Without any protection on his rook, Cardin was forced to try to check Ironwood’s king, only to lose the piece a few turns later.

“I don’t know exactly how much influence she has.” He moved his bishop back to protect his king, knowing it won’t be enough. “Duke Orgen’s in her pocket for sure. Morado, Virdt, and Aurem appear to be going along with her plans. Cirilian and Montblanc are working with her, but I suspect that would change depending on what happens with the Winchester title.

“Do you think there’s a way to break the Dukes apart?”

“As things stand? Not a chance. If one were to fall out of line, the others could crush them through Council votes. If the tariff on iron dropped, for example, House Virdt would be ruined. They would have to break away together, and arranging that without alerting Cinder and giving her time to counter it would be impossible.”

General Ironwood frowned and looked at the board. His fingers trailed on a few pieces before he pushed his king forward. “Well then, what can we do?”  
Knowing that checkmate was imminent, Cardin focused on forcing a stalemate. He sent a pawn forward, forcing Ironwood to take it. “Find out what her plans are first. She has a goal in mind, and we can’t stop her from getting it until we can learn what steps she’ll take.” He sent the king forward, aiming towards the center of the board.

Cardin holds his breath and watches Ironwood closely, hoping for a hint of unease or suspense to give away knowledge of her plans, but the General remained impassive, plotting out his next move. He sent his king closer to Cardin’s planning to push Cardin’s piece to an edge. “Easier said than done, I’m afraid. I don’t have any sources in Vale, and Ozpin hasn’t had any luck either. She has far too many resources and too few collaborators to question.”

When Cardin was forced towards an edge, he picked the one where a bishop sliced the far column in half. If Ironwood wasn’t paying attention, Cardin might be able to force a stalemate.

Again, he feels tempted to tell what he knows, but what would they do? Their machine is evidently well-protected if Cinder, with all her resources, can’t find it. Perhaps part of her plan was to force him onto Ozpin’s side and expose him to whatever secrets he had, or perhaps she was hoping to catch some change in Ozpin’s security.

“I can’t help there either. My father and I can’t move against her without risking the destruction of our family.”

“Then we’re at a standstill.” Ironwood’s rook and king forced Cardin’s last piece farther and farther back, until he could only move sideways. He kept his king close to the bishop, waiting for a single mistake.

“I was hoping you would have some way to break that standstill.”

The General chuckled and leaned over the board. After some thought, he slid his bishop aside, blocking Cardin’s stalemate plan. “Funny, I was hoping the same thing. Still, I appreciate you coming forward and offering your assistance, albeit through a roundabout channel.”

“I needed a way to make this discreet. I had justifiable reasons to call Mr. Schnee, and even then, I was watched.” After a pause, Cardin said, “Cinder knows about this meeting. I don’t know exactly how, but I was discovered.”

“A Semblance, maybe?”

Cardin shook his head. “She had a recording of one of my messages, and I wasn’t on speaker. I suspect I was sold out by my teammates.”

Cardin kept count of each time he slid his king. He had only gotten up to twenty when his king was forced into the corner. He made his last move, and the rook slid into place, securing the checkmate.

“Well played.”

“You’re just saying that to be polite.”

The General reached under his desk and took out a metal case. “Well, how about a consolation prize?” He unlatched it and revealed two phials of purple Dust, gently glowing through the glass casing. Cardin hefted one and turned it in his hand. Jacques must have sent the specs of his other acquisitions to Ironwood, as the phial was a perfect fit for his mace.

“Are you sure you want to give a student from another academy such a powerful weapon for the tournament?” he asked in jest.

In a grave tone, Ironwood said, “I have faith in my students’ capabilities. It will take more than some Dust to defeat them.”

“Well, don’t complain to me when I win.” He closed up the case and stood to shake Ironwood’s hand. “Thank you for everything, General. I will stay in touch.”

The Weiss-like woman was still standing outside of Ironwood’s office when he opened the door. She gave him a low bow and fell in behind as he made his way back to the Bullhead.

“Winter,” Ironwood called, “While you’re at Beacon, could you get the revised security detail for the Colosseum? Ozpin forgot to send them to me.”

“Yes sir. I will inform him at once.”

Cardin turned around for a closer look. “Winter?” he asked. “I feel like I’ve heard that name before.”

She frowned. “I am an Atlas Specialist serving directly under Ironwood. You may be thinking of someone else.”

Once the Bullhead returned to Beacon, Winter bid him farewell and went back to the flagship. Cardin lingered in the docks, watching the sun climb over Beacon’s tower, strangely reluctant to return. He scuffed his feet on the stone tile, watching students stroll across the campus grounds in pairs and packs.

“Is there something you’re looking for, young man?” the pilot called out. Cardin turned and faced the old, thin man with wispy gray hair. His forehead was scrunched up, as though he were deep in thought, but his eyebrows were up near his hairline.

“I think I want to head into town,” Cardin said hesitantly. “Maybe take a bit of a stroll.”

“Ah. Getting nervous for tomorrow?”

“Not really.” He couldn’t stop the question from being answered honestly in his head, that all bets were off, Cinder was rigging the games, and if she wanted to make a spectacle of him, where better to do it than in Amity Colosseum, with a live audience watching all over the world. “Just got a bit of energy to burn.”

The pilot chuckled. “Ah, to be young again. Hop in, I’ll take you straight there.”

Cardin felt himself at ease in the crowd. Perhaps it was in knowing where Cinder intended to set her stage, or maybe he was starting not to care anymore, but he didn’t wait for a knife to his back, he no longer had his ear cocked for the whisper of cloak and dagger, his eyes roamed around, drinking in the cacophony of colors and bodies as people from all nations jostled and bustled in the thoroughfares, munching on street food and gawking at trinkets commemorating the Vytal Festival, not once watching for the glint of steel in a sleeve.

As the hours passed, he found himself straying into a less-travelled area. The crowd thinned, and the din of peddlers hawking their wares and conversations clamoring over one another faded to a distant buzz in the back of his ears. It wouldn’t be for long, servers in aprons were setting up chairs and tables along the riverside, and porters were hauling barrels of ale and beer into the taverns, preparing for the night’s festivities. Garbagemen were sweeping the last remnants of the previous night out of the alley, kicking awake any sleeping bodies they found and calling morticians for the odd blood-stained corpse. From the nonchalant way they swept around the blood, it hadn’t been the first they’d come across, and with the way the Vytal Festival was being drawn out, it wouldn’t be the last.

After another hour of ambling through the area, Cardin came to a sudden stop. It wasn’t until he looked up and saw the unlit neon sign proclaiming “Junior’s” that he realized why. A quick glance at his scroll showed him it was just past three, hours before the nightclub’s doors would open, but the doors were propped open, and two tuxedoed men were watching through their red-tinted glasses as more goons hauled barrels into the club. Another stream went in through the back, carrying crates of more expensive liquor.

All the overhead lights were turned on, fully illuminating the nightclub. Without the lines of red Dust-light, the floors lost the illusion of levitation, showing instead they rested on clear fiberglass pillars. A full cleaning crew in suits vacuumed the carpets, mopped floors, hauled trash bags out the back, and brushed the upholstery. More men stocked the bar, or cleaned the restrooms, dusted the lights, and ran checks on the acoustics.

Junior was in the center of the club, directing the flow of booze and cleaners. When he spotted Cardin, he said, “Hey, we don’t open until–” The objection died on his lips when he recognized Cardin. His shoulders tensed, and he nodded towards the bar. Junior poured him a whiskey on the rocks, and Cardin admired the perfect sphere of ice in the glass before draining it in one swallow.

“What brings you here?” Junior asked.

“Honestly, I don’t know. My feet, I guess.”

Junior drummed his fingers on the bar. Several goons walked up to him, asking about orders and catering, but the mob boss waved them off.

“How’s business?” Cardin asked.

“Awful. I’ve got more people in here than ever, but all the side business has dried up. You’d figure that, with all these people here, it’d be a perfect time for some robbery, but with all the Huntsmen here, the police aren’t swamped like they should be. Worse, all the infighting between houses has stopped cold.”

Cardin’s hand tightened around the glass. “All of it?”

“I haven’t had a request for info in weeks. No bribes, no blackmail, no intercepted letters or nothing.” With a sigh, Junior took a glass out from under the bar and wiped it with a rag. “Well, at least the gang wars have stopped too.”

“Since when?” Cardin asked, with a sinking feeling in his gut.

One of Junior’s eyebrows rose. “Willing to pay for that info?”

Cardin slapped a few lien cards on the counter. Junior scooped them up and eyed them disdainfully. “Really? That doesn’t even cover your shot.”

“I’m the only one buying info, right? Supply and demand.”

Junior grumbled as he put away the cards. “I suppose it’s no secret. Cinder scooped up every last one, though what she did with them, nobody’s telling. All I know is they aren’t in Vale anymore.”

“What about yours?”

Junior shook his head. “She asked, but my boys were too smart to take her money.” With a chuckle, he added in a whisper, “Or too stupid.”

“Maybe they just like their boss.”

“Maybe. Gods know they’ve stuck around far longer than I thought. Even the twins are still hanging around, though at this rate, I’ll be closing doors by the end of the month.”

“It’s really that bad?”

Junior snorted. “Kid, do you have any idea how much it costs to keep a hundred gangsters employed?”

“Then go legit. Downsize and just be a nightclub.”

“I have too many enemies. Even with all the gangs gone, one of the Dukes would sweep me under the rug given half the chance, what with all the dirt I have on everyone.” He shook his head. “Everyone except the one person that matters anymore.”

“Cinder.”

“Exactly. I tried digging up what I could, but every paper trail goes cold in Mistral or Atlas. It’s pretty obvious her papers were forged, but whoever did it made it impossible to prove. Birth certificate, school records, doctor visits, it’s all there.”

“Same dead end I ran into.”

“And what’s worse,” Junior went on, “I can’t even figure out how she’s got the Dukes on a leash. I mean sure, Montblanc and Cirilian fell in line after the big four made their allegiances plain, and the smaller Dukes after them, but how did she get those first four?”

“Through Duke Orgen, I think.” Cardin settled into the chair and gestured for a refill. Grumbling to himself, Junior obliged. “I first met her at a dinner party months back, as a guest of Duke Orgen. It wasn’t long after that she rose to power.”

“And she’s tied to Duke Orgen, how exactly?”

“No idea.”

“Great.” Junior poured himself a whiskey from the same bottle, no ice, and sipped at it. “So, you’re really not one of hers, are you?”

“Not anymore. She’s decided she has no further use for me.” Cardin grimaced. “She probably found that transfer machine on her own.”

“Wait, hold up. What transfer machine?”

After Cardin explained the theory he and Jacques Schnee had shared, Junior came around the bar and sat down. He drained his shot in one go and poured another, leaving the bottle within Cardin’s reach.

“Damn. Who the hell knows what she could do with something like that. Could she absorb one Semblance? Two? Ten? Fifty?”

“And she’s willing to flood the city with Grimm to get her hands on it.”

Junior contemplated the rippling surface of his whiskey and rubbed at his short, stubbly beard. “Remember how I said none of my boys went with her? Well, I sent a few.”

“You wanted to see what she was doing with them.”

Junior nodded. “I wasn’t sure if I could tell you or not. If word of this got out, I’d be a dead man for sure.”

“Welcome to the club.”

Junior cleared his throat. “Anyways, I had some bugs and tracking devices placed on them, but they all went silent a few days later. I thought at first that they had got caught, but then I noticed where the signal had vanished.”

Cardin’s hackles rose, and he uneasily stroked the side of his glass. “Where?”

“The Grimmlands,” Junior said in a dry, sour voice. Shaking his head, he added, “Needless to say, none of those boys returned. I never even got a word out of them. Just, gone.”

Raising the glass to his lips, Cardin slammed the whiskey shot, clenching a fist as the liquid seared its way down his throat. He set the glass down with a hearty thunk, upended his wallet, letting the lien cards spill all over the counter, and left.


	30. Fixed Odds

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone. This one’s a touch earlier than usual – I’ll be leaving on a trip tomorrow, and I don’t know if I’d have time tomorrow. I had the week off, and spent the majority of the time doing absolutely nothing. It was fantastic, and as always, it’s going far too fast. Well, at least I have a couple more days before it’s over.
> 
> Thanks again for the comments, kudos, etc. I hope you enjoy the next step in Cinder’s maniacal machinations.

\----------

This time, there was no little slip of paper in Cinder’s fluid, angular handwriting giving away his opponents. There was only the wait, waiting through a half-hearted breakfast of toast and jam with Cinder’s eyes fixed on him, waiting in line to catch a Bullhead to Amity Colosseum with Cinder watching him from behind, waiting in his seat, watching the battles unfold below him, watching out of the corner of his eye as Cinder kept her attention solely on him.

Pyrrha and Jaune were first to go, squared off against a team from Mistral. Pyrrha could have ended it with a wave of her hand, but instead, she hung back in a fighting stance while Jaune confronted them both. They tried attacking him from both sides, but shield and sword of Croeca Mors lashed out with lances of light. His Aura was still in the green when both opponents were forced to surrender.

Yang and Weiss went up near the middle of the day. Though they were pitted against the lowest seeded Atlas team still in the running, they nearly choked. Yang’s punches broke nothing but air as a girl on roller skates zipped around her, while a man with a trumpet quartet zoned Weiss out with sonar shockwaves. When Weiss was beaten down near the red, the trumpeter turned to unleash a full salvo at Yang. Weiss tried to stop him, but the half-hearted shove only threw his aim off a touch. Yang was knocked near the edge of the arena, and roller blades went for her exposed gut. At the last second, Yang grabbed the other girl by the ankles, and they both tumbled off the edge.

It had seemed a hopeless fight for Weiss, considering her inability to close on the trumpeter, but a sloppy mistake from her opponent when he aimed in completely the wrong direction gave her the opening she needed to zip forward with her glyphs and strike dead-on with her rapier. He seemed shocked when he saw the weapon soaring towards him, though he was looking right at her as she formed her glyphs.

The battle between Team CFVY and Penny Polendina’s Team PINC caught Cardin’s eye, though the match was over within five minutes. Yatsuhashi rushed towards Penny, trying to close in before she got her blades out, but within moments, a flurry of slashes from the floating swords hacked his Aura to pieces. All the while, Coco kept her distance, flanking Penny with her machine bun handbag, but Penny ignored the rounds as they ricocheted off her Aura. With a flick of her hand, the swords converged on Coco. She beat them back with her handbag, but assaulted from all directions, Coco eventually fell under the onslaught.

As the day grew longer and longer, Cardin grew more uncomfortably aware that Cinder’s team had yet to enter the ring. When the penultimate matchup came onto the board, Cardin knew his fate was sealed. She was watching him, watching to see if he would run, or panic, or make last-minute arrangements to have one of his teammates take his place.

His hand went to the three Dust phials strapped to his belt. They were carefully sealed in opaque metal casings, so no one could tell what types they were, but the notches at the caps told him which two were Fire, and which was the Gravity Dust Ironwood had given him yesterday.

“So, we’re going up against Cinder,” Sky said.

“Looks like it.”

“Any chance she’ll go easy on us?”

Cardin’s eyes strayed back to Cinder. Her expression didn’t change a flicker.

“Better tell my dad who your next of kin is.”

Sky went pale and shivered. “Please don’t joke about that.”

Cardin watched the match below, but his concentration wandered. Odds were, it’d be Mercury down there, and Cinder wouldn’t want herself directly implicated in a ‘battlefield accident’. Either Emerald or Nelly, then.

The match dragged on for almost an hour as a monkey Faunus Cardin vaguely recognized danced and leapt around two aggressors from Beacon. Once in a while, glowing golden copies darted out from him and struck when his opponents let their guard down. Eventually, two got a hold of one of them, and the real Faunus kicked him off the stage. Once it was down to one, the battle quickly ended as the Faunus went in with his nunchaku, firing shotgun rounds from the ends in rapid bursts until his opponent ran out of Aura.

Port and Oobleck announced the Teams, no roulette required, taking care to highlight each fighter that went out on the field. Cardin’s was called first, and Sky followed after him like a whipped dog. Once he made it to the bottom, he watched the overhead display and waited for his fate to be sealed.

Mercury, and Emerald. Good. At least he had some idea of how she fought from the prelims. The two sauntered down the steps, though they kept a wary distance from one another. Once they were on center stage, the randomizer went up, giving Cardin a stage that was half chest-high grass, and half exploding craters. Plenty of space for Emerald and Mercury to lay an ambush and leverage their ranged capabilities, and a perfect field for an ‘accident’ to occur.

Emerald smiled at him, not saying a word, but Mercury gave him a friendly wave and said, “No hard feelings, yeah?”

Cardin returned a smile that he didn’t feel. “No hard feelings.”

When the match started, Emerald and Mercury backed away into the grass, letting it envelop him. Sky glanced anxiously at the grass, and at Cardin. “What now?”

“No way in hell we’re going in there. Stay sharp, and be ready for whatever they throw at us.”

Neither he nor Sky were ready for the curved emerald blade that snaked out of the grass, hooked Sky by the neck, and wrenched him forward. His Aura broke within a couple seconds, and he was thrown, groaning, over the edge.

As Port and Oobleck mourned the sudden loss of a Beacon student, Cardin backed away from the grass, heart pounding, not daring to look backwards to avoid the smoldering craters behind him.

The grass rustled, and Cardin raised his weapon. Emerald and Mercury walked out into the open, weapons lowered, casually sizing him up. With a nod from Emerald, Mercury stepped forward and raised his fists.

Cardin’s mind raced. If he stayed here, all it’d take is a well-timed strike to nullify his Aura, right over a Dust explosion. He’d be charbroiled before he could smell it. Of course, in the grass, the cameras wouldn’t see Mercury choke the life out of him. The center was too small for him to hold, even with his chain out, and his two opponents could force him back into bad terrain.

His hand went to the Dust vials, and he watched Mercury carefully, keeping his eyes up, but studying the legs. He had one shot. With Mercury out of the picture, he could deal with Emerald. Maybe.

Mercury watched as Cardin opened the Dust phial and emptied it into his mace. Red flames crackled on Cardin’s weapon as he hefted it.

“Really? You think I’m scared of a little fire?”

Mercury walked forward, slowly, inviting Cardin to attack. Cardin waited, step by patient step, for him to slip within range. When Mercury’s shoe scraped against the chipped gray stone of the crater field, Cardin lunged, lashing out with the mace at Mercury’s head. Mercury nimbly leapt back, but on the backswing, Cardin unfurled the chain and pushed his Semblance into it. The ball lurched forward, sinking as it pulled the chain taut.

For a moment, Cardin’s heart sank. Mercury had retreated farther than he expected. The chain hadn’t gone far enough to wrap around Mercury’s legs.

But the ball did go far enough to hit Mercury in the knee.

With Cardin’s strength and Semblance behind the blow, the ball of metal slammed into Mercury’s metal kneecap with a cringe-inducing squeal of torn metal. The ball tore through the first leg, sending it skittering across the mine field, and crumpled the other leg.

Mercury went down with a scream, grabbing at his left thigh. His crumpled leg twitched sporadically, and the torn one hissed and crackled as sparks flew from the cracked Dust engine housed in his metallic lower thigh.

The crowd, and the commentators with them, gasped in horror. It was Oobleck that first noticed Mercury’s legs weren’t real.

“Well I’ll be, Mercury Black’s legs are prosthetics! Aura doesn’t cover inorganic parts of the body, so naturally, Cardin’s attack destroyed them! While Mercury still retains all his Aura, it would appear that he may be already out of the fight.”

Cardin retracted the chain and braced himself for an attack. Emerald looked ready to leap at him, but a horn blared, and medical staff rushed onto the field. Two white-clad staff stood by each of the contestants, urging them to back away, while the rest converged around Mercury.

To fill up the lull in the action caused by the medical staff, Oobleck and Port continued their commentary. Up on the Dust displays, they replayed the moment Cardin broke Mercury’s legs, with special attention paid to the unfurling of his weapon.”

“Why, I thought so!” Oobleck said. “It would appear that there’s more to Mr. Winchester’s weapon than meets the eye!”

“All of the manliest weapons get longer. It’s a real hit with the ladies. Why, I have a telescoping barrel on my battleaxe, and it’s never failed to impress.”

“Well, axes aside, I don’t even think that chain is on his student record. He’s never even used it in class, so one must wonder how, or if at all, Cardin managed to acquire the skills needed to use such a complicated weapon.”

After some back and forth conversation between an EMT and Mercury, they folded up their stretcher and left. Mercury, though white-faced, was keeping himself from screaming through sheer force of will.

“It would appear that Mercury has chosen to remain on the field!” Port called out. “A man after my own heart he is, fighting to the very last.” His voice dropped, but his side-comment of “If only he was one of our students” came loud and clear over the speakers.

Once the field was clear, Cardin took up a fighting stance on the edge of the crater field, while Emerald crouched just in front of the grass. Mercury crawled, leaving bits of metal in his wake, to the edge of the two biomes and propped himself up on his elbows. Cardin checked the Dust in his weapon, only to find the last of the embers guttering out. With a silent curse, he opened the weapon and let the spent, blackened ashes fall to the ground.

The moment the horn blared to start the match again, Emerald opened fire. Cardin raised his arms over his eyes, letting the bullets skitter off his gauntlets and chestplate. He could hear Emerald’s feet scuff the ground in front of him, racing to his right to flank him. Cardin swung out and unfurled the chain, swinging in a wide arc. Emerald skidded to a stop and slid down, underneath the chain. Swearing under his breath, Cardin stepped forward, meeting Emerald’s attack head-on. He caught both blades on his left gauntlet and brought the butt of his mace into Emerald’s jaw.

She staggered back, rubbing at a fresh bruise below her lip. While she was on the back foot, Cardin pulled the chain back, letting it snag one of Emerald’s feet. She hopped out of it before he could tighten its grip, sprinted back, and fired another volley. Cardin was too slow to bring up his arms and took a few bullets to the cheek, but none had hit his nose. He cursed himself for not thinking to wear a helmet.

One of Emerald’s weapons flew towards him, with a thin chain trailing behind it. Cardin brought out his own and swung it up in front of him, tangling the two weapons. With a heave, he yanked Emerald forward, but she nimbly dodged his left-handed punch and brought her other blade down into Cardin’s shoulder. Gritting his teeth, Cardin wrenched aside and swung the chain at Emerald’s eyes. With a hiss, Emerald yanked her weapon out and slashed him across the face. The blade caught him at the bridge of his nose, at the highest point his Aura couldn’t reach. Blood dribbled down his fake nose and filled Cardin’s mouth with a bitter, metallic taste.

Oobleck’s voice boomed out of the speakers lining the stands. “Ooh, speaking of inorganic parts, it would appear that Cardin’s nose is something of a weak spot as well.” It was muted by distance, no doubt intentionally so the students wouldn’t be distracted, but there was only so much good acoustic design could do when a commentator’s voice had to be heard by tens of thousands noisy, whispering people. “If it breaks again, he may be forced to forfeit for his own safety.”

That right there was meant for Cardin to hear, a hidden message to keep his nose safe or risk losing. Considering that Emerald may try to kill him through that nose, it was excellent advice. He swore at himself for not thinking of it earlier, it’d be all too easy to dismiss it as an accident if his Aura didn’t work properly.

The moment Oobleck’s warning came over the speakers, Emerald shifted her attacks. She made a few feints at his head, but every blow that connected was aimed no higher than his shoulders. Bullets hit him even lower, in the gut or legs. The interval between attacks to the face grew longer, but she still tested him, seeing if he’d lower his guard.

Being forced to protect his face while Emerald hammered at his chest and legs, Cardin lost ground foot by foot. He tried turning to keep them fighting in the middle ground, but Emerald’s two blades hemmed him in on either side, forcing him into a straight retreat to broken ground.

He felt rock crunch beneath his boots, felt the sudden slope of a nearby crater, and skirted around it. When Emerald glanced down to place her feet, Cardin turned and ran, hopping over craters and circling towards flat ground. Emerald went back to stable ground and rushed to cut him off, but he leapt, planted his feet, and blocked two blades aimed at his head. Twisting his weapon, he shoved her back and followed up with an overhead slam. Emerald rolled out of the way, kept rolling, until she vanished in the grass.

Gunshots rang out, and bullets zinged off his Aura and armor. Cardin scrambled across the field, keeping an arm in front of her face, but there was no cover and nowhere to hide, not the grass, and definitely not in a crater.

The crater. An idea lit up in his head as he sprinted towards the flickering, orange glow smoldering in a crater. He dipped his mace inside, shook it around until it came up with fiery hot motes. He sprinted towards the grass and set his mace at the foot of the long, dry strands. Within seconds, the grass caught, and fire raced with a palpable shockwave of hot air and a crackling roar.

Emerald leapt out of the grass, just seconds ahead of the fire, and rolled to her feet. Cardin flung out the ball and chain, catching Emerald on the shoulder. She rolled with the blow, came up, and fired at Cardin. With his head tucked in a gauntlet, Cardin spun, retracting and uncoiling the chain so it spun in a tight circle and lashed back out. She dodged the ball, but the flickering flames left in its wake singed her arm.

Cardin retracted the chain, but Emerald was on him before he had the ball back. Green blades bit into his chestplate and gauntlet as Cardin struggled to keep the recoiling chain from flying out of his fingers. When the ball came back, Cardin lashed out, but Emerald was already out of reach, firing more bullets.

Hiding his eyes behind his gauntlets, Cardin studied the overhead display. He was still in the green, and Emerald had dipped into the yellow. He could try to lose, take hits on his Aura instead of his armor. It might stop Emerald from killing him, but Cinder would have plenty of other ways. He had to win, had to be Vale’s champion. Would that still protect him? If Cinder had the Dukes in hand, she’d have the press, and if he turned up dead, it’d be too easy for them to blame the White Fang.

A flash of green brought him back to his senses, and he was just fast enough to block the first blade. Her second swept under his chestplate, gouging through his Aura and knocking the wind from his lungs. Wheezing, Cardin backed away, mace raised, watching his Aura dribble down to the yellow. Emerald followed up on the opening with ruthless precision, blades dipping in and out through his guard. Cardin retreated blindly, relying on instincts honed against Gideon’s twin axes, a duck here, a parry there, forming a shell of steel against the worst of the storm. Before he knew it, his boots crunched on brittle rock, and he was back among the craters. He let the lay of the land shape his retreat, angling his steps down slopes and around craters.

He couldn’t see the display, but he could sense the trembling in his arms, a cold ache that marked the steady drain of Aura away from his extremities. Even with his weapon and armor protecting him, plenty of Emerald’s attacks slipped towards skin, each one burning its way across.

If he wanted to win, he had to stop retreating and hit back. If she moved too fast, he’d have to move faster.

The tingling bordered on pain as he focused on making everything lighter, forced his Semblance to turn inward, to flesh and bone. His head spun as blood rushed into his head, expanded inside of him as his heart found less mass to resist its beating. The world dimmed to a hazy blur of grays and blacks, and a tan-colored blob struck sharp green flashes.

He leaned back so far he nearly fell over, and as he righted himself, he barreled into Emerald. Moving fast as he was, he caught Emerald completely by surprise, but he didn’t have the mass to bowl her over. He released his Semblance, and his vision snapped back to razor focus, to Emerald’s furious, horrified expression as he grappled her, left hand grabbing a spot that made Professor Port howl with laughter and ramble on about how he had been that daring, all those years ago.

“I was hoping for a better handhold,” Cardin said. “Maybe you should try a padded bra, might catch Cinder’s eye that way.”

Her red eyes boiled. She snarled and kicked and clawed at him, but Cardin dropped his mace and brought up his head and slammed it down, hard.

As he went in for a second headbutt, flames sprouted in front of him. He reared back, but in a flash, the flames were gone, Emerald had wrestled a leg out from under him, and her knee went straight into his groin.

Even as he staggered back, he had his weapon ready, shaking though it was, but Emerald seemed to have taken the headbutt hard, limply rolling to her feet and cradling her head. Cardin searched for his weapon, found it at Emerald’s feet. While she was distracted, he crept forward, keeping low, hoping she wouldn’t notice.

She did. With a kick, his mace slid up a slope, went over the edge of a crater, and tumbled down into its burning depths with a hiss of sparks. Emerald raised her blades and walked slowly, carefully towards him. Cardin scanned the field for somewhere to run, and saw a metal lump on the ground, Mercury’s shattered leg, metal casing cracked around the kneecap, exposing a slender length of steel that made a perfect grip.

He feinted the other way, then went at a dead run. Bullets and footsteps raced after him, but he reached it. The metal burned his fingers, but he swung the makeshift club. The foot caught Emerald square in the chest, and a loud retort knocked both of them back.

The improvised weapon sent the crowd into an uproar. Professor Oobleck shouted at a hummingbird’s pace into the microphone and Port rumbled over him.

Scrambling to his feet, Cardin examined the leg. At the heel, a hollow barrel trailed smoke, and a ring of bullets sat around the Achilles heel. Before he had time to figure out how it worked, Emerald lunged at him. Cardin had to use his Semblance to get the weapon up in time, but its unbalanced weight slid down, letting Emerald’s blades in. Pushing forward, Cardin nearly knocked her into a crater, but she leapt over it and landed awkwardly. He lashed out again, firing another bullet as the heel slammed into her forehead.

Near the edge of the ring, Mercury howled with delirious laughter. “Hey Cardin, I’ll give you my second leg if you kick her in the ass with it!”

Emerald glared at him, and Cardin used the opening to lash again. It seemed that every time the heel flicked forward, the hidden firearm went off. It felt awkward, but flicking the weapon forward like a fishing rod made powerful impacts. Emerald panted hard, winding around the kicks, but getting driven back by Cardin’s awkward sweeps.

Even with the new advantage, he was losing in Aura. They were both at around a third, and at the rate Cardin was burning his Semblance, he only had a couple minutes. Snarling, he pressed onward, lashing wildly, driving her deeper into the cratered landscape. Emerald stumbled over crater rims, but she recovered quickly, leaping to safer ground and unloading another round of bullets at him. The leg proved better at protecting his face, but bullets nicked at his Aura.

Cardin could tell his Aura was bleeding faster than hers. His mind circled through options as he let his arms and legs fight for him. With his ball and chain gone, he had no way of throwing Emerald off the edge of the ring. All he had were Mercury’s legs, and the Dust phials.

A crater erupted between them, belching fire and smoke. Emerald smirked and took the opportunity to back away further, letting her submachine guns roar. The haze of smoke parted as bullets punched through it, leaving wispy holes in the rising black curtain.

His hand went to the Dust phials at his waist. His fingernail trailed over the cap, counting the notches in the metal. Still holding the leg in front of him, he grabbed the fire Phial, snapped off the cap, and hurled the canister forward.

Emerald’s eyes widened as the phial tumbled end over end, spilling red Dust into the air, and disappeared into a crater. Cardin scrambled back as the ground heaved under him. A deafening bang shook the colosseum, and a hot volley of stones struck his back, followed by a scorching shockwave, like a giant hand made of fire. His feet left the ground, and the force shoved him forwards. Tucking in his arms, Cardin spun, landing on his shoulder and rolling to a stop in fresh ashes.

Emerald was blown way from the ring, over the out of bounds zone, but before she fell, she reached forward with both blades and caught the edge of the ring. Cardin rose to his feet and flicked Mercury’s leg forwards, but the bullets that left it went wide, bouncing off broken stone.

With shaking arms, Emerald hauled herself up, cresting the edge of the ring with her head. Her eyes fixed on him, burning with hatred, but then they focused farther out, to something behind him. The rage vanished like a snuffed candle. One hand slipped, and for the span of a held breath, she hung by her fingers to her last weapon. As the crowd cheered, she fell.

“And what an explosive comeback that was!” Oobleck shouted. “He’s lucky that didn’t take out the rest of his Aura.”

Port gave his colleague a withering look. “Professor Oobleck, we talked about this.”

“Talked about what? How blown away we all were by Cardin’s ingenious use of the terrain and his resources?”

“Barty,” Port growled.

“Miss Sustrai went out with quite the bang, didn’t she?”

A loud crackle came over the speakers as Professor Port smashed Oobleck’s microphone with his battleaxe.

“I do hope you can all pardon that unseemly commentary. As I believe my colleague was trying to say, it was an impressive gambit from Mr. Winchester. Now, all he has left to do is contend with Mr. Black, who may have all his aura left, but doesn’t have a leg to stand on.”

“Seriously?” Oobleck shouted into Port’s microphone.

Cardin walked over to Mercury. He let the leg scrape against the rock, digging a furrow of ashes in its wake. Mercury had his arms raised in a fighting pose, but he could barely sit up.

“I’d rather not do this,” Cardin said.

Dripping with cold sweat, Mercury looked up at him with unfocused eyes. “Too bad. I don’t like giving up. Every time I tried, it’d get me a boot in my ribs.” He cracked a grin. “Besides, it’s kinda funny, getting beaten up with my own leg. Do me a favor and say ‘why are you kicking yourself’ while you’re doing it.”

Cardin studied the board. He had nineteen percent left. Just four, and he’d be out. He gauged the distance to the edge of the ring, just over six feet, and tried to judge how much of his Semblance it would take. It’d be close, but it was haul him out, or beat him with the leg and hope he didn’t have any surprises planned.

When he circled around to Mercury’s back, his opponent turned, trying to face him. Cardin was faster. When Mercury’s back was to him, Cardin grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and shoved his Semblance into him. Mercury’s Aura pushed back, and his arm burned as power welled up in his fingers, but he could feel Mercury’s weight shift. He wrenched his arm up and around, hauling Mercury off the ground, and flung him over the edge of the ring. Without any legs to twist around, Mercury was unable to turn and grab the ledge. He went over the side with a stifled cry of pain.

“And there you have it, Team CRDL will be moving on by a hair! What a spectacular performance from Mr. Winchester, taking on two opponents at full Aura.

Cardin turned, following the line of sight Emerald’s eyes had taken before she let go. Cinder leaned back in her seat, watching his victory with a smile.

As he sat down on the charred earth, breathing hard and coughing from the ashes, all he could think was oh hell, it wasn’t over yet.


	31. Treacherous Waters

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Almost forgot to get this out today – I was super busy in the morning and absolutely swamped at work in the evening. The weekend at the wedding was alright. Social engagements like that aren’t my cup of tea, but it was nice to spend some quality time with my dad. I’m missing that vacation already, but at least this is a three day weekend.
> 
> Alright, that’s enough out of me. Time for sleep.
> 
> Actually, one more thing. Starting this weekend, I have plans to double my writing output. If it goes well, I may switch to a two chapter a week model within two weeks. Fingers crossed!

\----------

Cardin hadn’t slept that night. Eyes closed, breathing evenly, Cardin’s mind burned like an overworked CCT terminal, thoughts darting back and forth, connecting stray points of data he had on Cinder. Torchwick and the White Fang, Emerald and Mercury, Nelly’s sudden appearance and behavior, Duke Orgen, the Grimmlands, letting him win the Vytal Festival. If she didn’t mean for her pawns to kill him off in front of a live audience, did she have something else in mind? Was there some other way to kill him in a later round, or was it all misdirection? Was she even trying to kill him at all? The Aura transfer machine, her ultimate goal. It all had to tie back there, somehow.

She wanted him to go to Ozpin. That much was obvious. If she had some unknown way of recording his conversations, the moment Ozpin tipped his hand to him, it would be over. But without Ozpin, he wouldn’t know her true objective. Without Ozpin, he couldn’t make a plan.

Maybe he didn’t have to. If he could inform Ozpin, but what could he do? Cinder had the Dukes behind her, while Ozpin’s grip on the House of Commons grew weaker every day.

The Grimmlands. Junior’s tidbit stuck out like a broken arm, bent backwards over what was otherwise a straightforward plan of attack. With everything else, he could at least guess why, but hiring all those bandits, just to throw them to the Grimm? He had to know more.

His ruminating mind woke him just after dawn. While his teammates slept, he slipped into his clothes and went down to breakfast. He was halfway through his eggs and bacon when Weiss walked inside with a bald, portly man with a bushy brown mustache. He had a buttoned white undershirt and gray vest, gray pants, and a tie the color of Schnee blue.

“And this is the cafeteria, and hey, that’s Cardin over there! Good morning Cardin!”

Cardin quickly rubbed the sleepiness out of his eyes, stood, and waved. “Morning Weiss. Who is that?”

“Oh! Cardin, this is Klein. Klein, Cardin. He’s the one I told you about, the one who helped me with father.”

The man looked at him with smiling yellow eyes and bowed. “My thanks to you for helping my lady. If there is anything I can do for you, you only need asked.”

Weiss bounced in her high heels. “Isn’t this great! I thought you said that there was no way father would send him.”

Cardin chuckled. “I guess he wanted to make sure he stayed on your good side. Hey, even I can be wrong sometimes.”

A brown-haired girl slunk into the cafeteria behind her. Cardin squinted, trying to figure out who it was, but they took a seat by the far wall, too far away to see clearly. He turned his attention back to Weiss. “Why don’t you get breakfast and join me?”

“Oh, yes, that would be lovely! Wait right there, I’ll be back.”

As she ran to the breakfast line, Cardin went back to his seat. Klein sat opposite of him. His eyes flashed red, and Cardin’s heart skipped a beat, imagining Yang in full-on meltdown mode.

“I’m only going to ask this once,” he growled, “What are you planning to do with her?”

Cardin swallowed and cleared his throat. “You’re sharper than she is.” With a shrug, he said, “Nothing immediate. It would be advantageous to form good relations with the heiress of the SDC while I can. It may lead to better business deals or political favors down the road.”

The anger and red left Klein’s eyes, turning brown. “I hope you understand that I’ll have to let her know you can’t entirely be trusted.”

Nodding, Cardin said, “That’s probably for the best. She’s too naïve as she is. She’d get eaten alive the moment she stepped into her father’s chair.”

One of Klein’s eyebrows rose. “Is that so?”

“She won’t be much of an ally if she can’t hold her own in politics.”

Weiss returned to the table with a cup of steaming coffee, two dainty slices of toast, and a bowl of chopped fruit. Klein smiled at her, and his eyes were back to yellow. “Is the selection of food here to your liking?”

“Well, it’s got nothing on home,” she said, “But it’s not bad once you get used to it.”

Klein chuckled. “I suppose I’ll have to bring you my French toast casserole once in a while.”

“You mean it! Oh Klein, I missed that so much!” Weiss pulled out her Scroll. “Hey Cardin, you mind if the three of us take a selfie? You know, for father.”

“Why do a selfie when I can take the picture?” Klein asked, holding out his hand. “Go sit by your friend, and I’ll get a good picture.”

Weiss set down her tray and leaned up against him. One hand wrapped around his shoulders, dragging him closer. He felt himself tense up from the contact and forced himself to relax. His own hand went on Weiss’ shoulder. He felt his face flush from the intimate contact and growled inwardly at himself. No distractions. Deep breath. Smile, gentle and smooth. The warm tingle receded, but Weiss’ body heat radiated from her touch, leaving his shoulders and hand sweaty.

“And cheese! There, looks like a keeper!”

“May I see?” Weiss took the Scroll. “Oh wow, that’s perfect! I’ll send it to him right away!”

While Weiss tapped away on her Scroll, Cardin picked over his breakfast, drawing out the meal as long as possible. Weiss ate with him, drinking all the coffee before tackling the fruit and toast, though she left the food half-finished.

Cardin tried talking about the Vytal Festival, but with Weiss still sour over how her last match went, it quickly devolved into a rant against Yang and Ruby. “I mean seriously, how is four against one fair? And if I hadn’t done something, that guy would’ve totally nailed Yang, and that would’ve been that.”

Klein reached across the table and patted Weiss’ arm. “There there, you did everything you could. Not everything works out the way you hope it will.”

“But it’s not fair! Of course Yang’s the one that Ruby chose to move on to finals. Sure, she can punch hard, but she’s short-tempered and has no strategy. Against a faster opponent, she won’t be able to land a single blow.”

Klein appeared at a loss for words. While Cardin could have helped him out, a little fracturing of Team RWBY would only make Yang an easier opponent. “Can you really blame Ruby? It’s her older sister. She can’t help but look up to her.”

Oddly enough, that seemed to deflate some of Weiss’ anger. “Yeah, I suppose. And it didn’t help that Yang was the last one standing.” She set her head on the table and groaned. “Of course Winter had to see the whole thing. I don’t think I’ve ever been scolded that hard in my entire life.”

“Wait, Winter?” Cardin asked. The name rung a bell, but he couldn’t remember why.

“Yeah, my sister. She had just arrived a few days ago. Right now, she’s on the Atlesian flagship, overseeing the transfer of troops to the frontier.”

Winter’s blue-gray eyes and silvery hair popped up in mind, and all at once, he realized the reason behind Jacques’ bitterness towards military training, Winter’s paranoia towards the White Fang.

“She’s your sister?” The words left his mouth before he could take them back. Both Weiss and Klein stared at him in surprise.

“You met her?” Klein asked, with an edge of red in his eyes.

Grimacing to himself, Cardin said, “I met with General Ironwood yesterday. She was there.”

Weiss nodded. She looked paler than usual, and her mouth tightened itself in a slight grimace. “What did you speak with him about?”

“Chess. Apparently, he’s sick of losing against Ozpin and wanted a more reasonable opponent.”

“Did you win?”

“Nope. I got close to forcing a stalemate, but that was it.”

“I see.”

Weiss’ hands went to her stomach, and she doubled over. Klein vaulted over the table and shook Weiss’ shoulders. “Is something the matter? An upset stomach?”

“It hurts,” she groaned.

Cardin lifted her by a shoulder. “Health room’s in the other building. Let’s move.”

Klein took the other shoulder, and together, they helped her out of the cafeteria. Weiss’ steps faltered, and she nearly fell a few times. Cardin reviewed what she had ate. Bread and fruit would be difficult to poison, but a bit in the coffee would go unnoticed.

“Was there anyone in there with you?” he asked.

Weiss was half-delirious, but she heard his question. “The servants. No students.”

Cardin frowned. There was an automatic coffee machine in the corner by the lunch lines. Someone would have to be standing right next to her to slip something in before she put on the lid.

Klein shot him a worried look. “Do you think someone poisoned her?”

“It would be tough. It’d take a good stealth or transport Semblance to pull it off.”

Like Russell’s. The thought sent a chill through his gut. He forced a weak laugh and said, “I could just be paranoid. You know how it is with politics here.”

“That’s why I’m worried.”

The nurse was sorting medical supplies when they threw the door opened. She rushed over, clipboard in hand, the moment Klein and Cardin set Weiss on a bed.

“Symptoms?” she asked.

“Bad abdominal pain,” Klein said. “It happened so suddenly.”

The nurse watched where Weiss was applying pressure and bit her lip. “How’s her appetite?”

“She didn’t eat much,” Cardin said, “Though I think that’s normal.”

Taking out a Scroll, the nurse called Vale Central and asked them to have the surgery room ready. “Sorry,” she said when she hung up. “I think it’s appendicitis, though I can’t rule it out with what I have. She’ll need to be taken to Vale Central. Will one of you help me with the stretcher?”

“I got it,” Klein said. “I am authorized to serve as her guardian on Mr. Schnee’s behalf and will handle medical affairs for the time being.”

“Thank you.” The nurse brought out a portable stretcher and laid it out next to Weiss’ bed. Cardin and Klein helped her down, while the nurse took out an ice pack for Weiss’ stomach.

“Could you inform Weiss’ teammates that she will be indisposed?” Klein asked.

Cardin nodded and held the door open for them. He followed them out the building and watched them board a Bullhead. As the aircraft darted towards the hospital, Cardin went back to the dorm building. He knocked on Team RWBY’s door. From the other side, he heard a muffled shout of “Hey, don’t you know how early it is? I haven’t even had breakfast yet!”

The door swung open. Yang’s hair clung wetly to her back, and all she had on was a bathrobe.

“What is it?”

“Weiss is on her way to the hospital. The nurse thinks it’s appendicitis.”

Yang winced. “Is she going to need us there?”

“She’s got Klein. Her servant.”

“Right, that guy.” Yang frowned and drew away from the door. “He was here the second visitor’s hours started, and Weiss wouldn’t stop gushing about how good it would be to finally have a good servant.” She snorted and said, “Is that everything?”

“Yep. I’ll leave you to get dressed.”

Yang looked down at her bathrobe, blushed, and drew it closer around herself. “I just got out of the shower, okay? Not like I’m going to keep someone waiting so I can throw some clothes on.”

“Bye.”

As Cardin turned away, Yang grabbed him by the shoulder. “Wait. Did you hear anything about, you know?”

It took Cardin a moment to remember what she was talking about. “Nothing. I’m still keeping an eye on it.”

“You better. Now get out, I’m getting changed.”

After the door closed, Cardin checked his Scroll. Professor Oobleck wasn’t holding office hours, but he made a habit of doing paperwork in the morning. When he knocked on the door, Oobleck called him in.

“Ah, Mr. Winchester! Congratulations on your victory yesterday. I got all fired up watching it.”

“Thank you, Prof- Doctor Oobleck.” Cardin pulled up a chair and folded his hands in front of him. “I was very lucky yesterday.”

The professor scoffed at his words. “Luck had nothing to do with it, Cardin. You kept the secret of your weapon all through your primary education and your first year at Beacon. It’s obvious you’ve been planning this for a long time.”

Cardin shrugged it off. “I was hoping not to use it until the singles. I didn’t come here to talk about the Festival anyways.”

“Oh?” Oobleck took a long swallow of coffee. “And what did you want of me?”

Cardin took a deep breath, trying to phrase his question without arousing suspicion. “I’ve been curious about the Grimmlands. After all, it’s rumored that there are incredible Dust stores on that continent. If we could establish an outpost in an easily defensible area, we could gather more intelligence on the continent’s dangers and resources.

The professor sighed and went over to his bookshelves. “You aren’t the first to have those thoughts. Dozens of expeditions went to the Grimmlands, along with a full-fledged colony. Most ships don’t even get within sight of the coast, not with all the Feilongs, Kraken, and Leviathans lurking in those waters. Of the ones that did make it, only four had any survivors return, and none of those were unscathed.”

He pulled out a book and opened it to a page with a bent corner. “The last expedition ever sent was also the one that made it the farthest. The Huntsmen of the Fifty-Second traveled seventy miles inland along a river. Their reports are nothing less than horrifying – thick black fog choking out the sunlight, vegetation that’s brittle to the touch, no animals, fruits, or food of any kind to be found. Flocks of Nevermore like clouds darted through the sky, packs of Boarbatusk and Beowolves stretched as far as the eye could see. They documented record sizes of King Taijitu and Death Stalkers lurking in its many caves.”

Professor Oobleck slammed the book shut. “What made them turn back, however, was the Wyvern, as it’s been named. A flying Grimm the size of a mountain, capable of generating lesser Grimm and commanding them, according to the Huntsmens’ accounts. It drove them back to their boats, and the Huntsmen lost half their number holding the swarms of Grimm back while the others fled to the mainland.”

“So, that’s it then?” Cardin asked. “Nobody else has tried to go there since?”

“They’d have to be mad to try.” Oobleck scratched at his hair. “Well, Ozpin had been trying for years to organize another expedition, and I can’t help but agree with his logic. We know far too little about the Grimm, and it’s likely that the lost continent holds the key to their origins.”

Cardin leaned back with a queasy feeling in his stomach. “I take it no one’s tried to establish an outpost there?”

“Far too many Grimm, and that Wyvern is too great a threat. All of Atlas’ fleet could go up against that monster and not leave a scratch.”

Cardin racked his brain for other reasons to send a ship over there. But as Oobleck said, there were sea Grimm lurking in the waters of the Grimmlands. It took a full team of professional Huntsmen just to keep them at bay. Unless Cinder had serious connections in Mistral, it was unlikely she had a military force that could get through the Grimm. Oobleck had left him more questions with answers, and he felt his heart sink lower.

The professor adjusted his glasses. “You seem awfully curious about the Grimmlands all of the sudden. Might I ask what brought this on?”

“Academic curiosity. I’m sure you understand the feeling.”

He smiled. “You never struck me as the type.”

“Thank you for the information,” Cardin said, rising from the chair. “I better get ready for the singles tomorrow.”

“I’m sure you’ll do Beacon proud.”

Cardin listened at the door for a few minutes, but all he heard was the rustling of pages, no tell-tale clicks of a Scroll or talking to Ozpin. When footsteps came down the hall, Cardin straightened and quietly walked away.

As he walked outside, he caught sight of Emerald pushing around a wheelchair. He veered away from her, walking through the grass to get back to his dorm, but she caught sight of him, spoke to the person in the wheelchair, and went after him. With a grimace, Cardin stepped onto the sidewalk and slowed for her to catch up.

“Hey,” Mercury said. “Nice work yesterday.”

Cardin turned around. Mercury’s damaged leg was removed, leaving him with two stumps wrapped in gauze.

“How’s the legs?” Cardin asked.

Mercury wriggled the stumps up and down. “Hurt like a bitch, but the doc’s have me snorting painkillers through a funnel.”

Cardin winced. “The neural link was damaged?”

“Yeah, you fucked them both up. Luckily, the guy who installed these flew in this morning. He’ll get them fixed up the moment he’s ready.”

Emerald shot Mercury a warning glare, but he didn’t seem to notice. Cardin did, and filed it away to look into later.

“And in the meantime, you have Emerald wheeling you around.”

Mercury laughed. “It’s a miracle she hasn’t dumped me into the fountain yet.”

Emerald smiled and said through gritted teeth, “Keep up the smart-ass comments, and I’ll head straight there.”

“Which is why it’s probably better for both of us if you let Cardin take over. You wouldn’t want to get in trouble for dumping a helpless cripple out of his wheelchair, would you?”

Emerald shoved him forward, fast enough to make the wheels rattle, but Mercury hit the brakes and the wheelchair squealed to a stop. He looked back and grinned.

“He’s your problem now,” Emerald said as she walked past Cardin and left for the transfer dorms.”

Cardin took the plastic grips of the wheelchairs. “So, what now?”

“Let’s go somewhere.”

“What do you mean?”

“Get lunch, I guess. I don’t know.”

Cardin checked the time. “It’s not even ten yet.”

“Breakfast?”

“I just ate.” He looked down at the back of Mercury’s head. “What’s this about?”

“Look, let’s just go somewhere and talk, alright?”

There were students walking all around them, but none paid any mind to Cardin and Mercury.

“Somewhere we won’t be overheard?” Cardin asked.

Mercury craned his head and nodded.

“There’s one place I know we will have some time alone. I’m not sure you’d want to go there.”

“Please tell me it’s not a bar.”

“Well, it’s more of a nightclub. You’ve seen it before.”

Mercury sagged in his wheelchair. “Would they even be open this early?”

“They’ll be open for me.”

Cardin stood still and waited for Mercury to speak up. The plastic arms of the wheelchair creaked and groaned as Mercury clenched and unclenched his hands. The air tossed his hair back and forth. After a long minute, Mercury took a deep breath. “Screw it, there won’t be anyone there, right? Let’s do this.”

The Bullhead pilot helped him load Mercury and his wheelchair in and out of the Bullhead. Between the long walk and the weight of the wheelchair, Cardin was sweating once they made it to Junior’s. The streets were even dirtier than the last time he visited, and there were fewer cleaners picking up the trash.

“Shit,” Mercury said as they passed a corpse. “Never thought I’d see that in a city like Vale.”

“That’s what happens when you cram thousands of people into a city for a month. This Festival can’t be over soon enough.”

“Hear hear.”

Cardin stopped outside the doors to Junior’s. It was still early enough that Junior’s goons haven’t started preparations for that night.

“Last chance,” Cardin said.

“After you pushed me all the way here?” He turned back and gave Cardin a cocky grin. “As fun as it would be to hear you puff and wheeze pushing my fat ass back to the Bullhead, I’d rather not waste our time.”

“Please, you’re two legs lighter.”

“Which makes it even more embarrassing that you’re winded.”

Cardin chuckled and pushed him towards the doors. Cardin thumped the door twice. Aftera moment, a hung-over Miltia opened the door a crack and peered into the sunlight with tired red eyes.

“The hell do you want?” she murmured.

“A table, if Junior doesn’t mind. I’ve got an important acquaintance I’d like to speak with in private.”

Miltia groaned and closed the door. A moment later, a goon ushered him inside. Mercury’s hands trembled as a second goon took the wheelchair. He looked down between his knees and nervously licked his lips.

Junior’s men brought them past the dance floors, past the tables that lined the walls, through a door in the back. A long, narrow hall was lined on both sides with numerous small rooms. A goon opened the door to the nearest one, and after Cardin and Mercury clambered onto the red cushioned booth, the door closed with an audible schlick of a soundproof seal. A light clicked on overhead, bathing the booth in a gentle red glow.

“Wow,” Mercury said, bouncing on the cushions. “You really get the red-carpet treatment here.”

“Considering I’m his only big customer these days, it’s no surprise.”

A rap came from the door. Cardin slid aside the eye slit and saw Junior’s face. He unlocked the door. Junior set a glass on the table and raised a glass of whiskey to pour. Mercury recoiled from the bottle as though it were a burning stick of dynamite. Cardin held his hand under the bottle’s neck.

“Not today, Junior. I’ll stick with seltzer and lime.”

One of Junior’s eyebrows rose, but he took the bottle away. Mercury cleared his throat and said in a shaky voice, “Cola, no ice. And no alcohol, got it?”

Junior rolled his eyes and nodded. Once the door was closed again, Cardin said, “Let me know if you have to leave.”

“No. No, it’s fine. I – I just need a minute.” Mercury sank into the chair and gripped the glass table.

“Don’t break that,” Cardin said as Mercury’s knuckles went white.

“Sorry. I just – it’s something I’ll have to get used to, right? I mean, I’ll be having more meetings in places like this with clients.” With a nervous laugh, Mercury added, “Cinder chewed me out for not following you and the blonde chick in here that one time.”

“Eh, we didn’t talk about anything important anyways.” Another knock came at the door, Junior with their drinks. He set the drinks down and left with a bow. Cardin took a sip and felt his face pucker up at the bitterness.

“So, what did you want to talk about?” Cardin asked.

Mercury looked down at his drink and swirled the straw around. Without any ice, it floated up until it nearly fell out of the glass. “I know you’ve been trying to buddy up to me.”

Cardin shrugged. “I’ve never tried to hide it.”

“Why? You think I’ll switch sides just because we talked a bit?”

“Not at all.” Cardin took another sip and braced himself for the acidity. This time, he was able to keep a straight face. “Cinder suspects you, doesn’t she?”

“Well yeah, of course she does. That’s why I’d like you to stop.”

“And you think that coming here with me, alone, wouldn’t rouse her suspicions further? After all, Junior’s back rooms disable all electronics in them. Even if you were recording this conversation, your Scroll lost power the moment you scooted into your seat.”

Mercury’s fingers froze around the straw. He checked his Scroll and looked up with anger in his eyes.

“You set me up, didn’t you?”

“Welcome to politics.” Cardin leaned forward, pushing his drink aside. “So, what are you going to do about it?”

Mercury pushed himself towards the door. “Simple. Leave and never talk to you again.”

“She’ll just assume we’ve devised some means of passing messages that she can’t intercept. Besides, it’s not as though she needs you, does she? After all, Team CMEN is done.”

Mercury looked away. “It’s not like that was all I was for.”

“Then why is she threatening you?”

Sipping on his soda, Mercury didn’t answer him.

“Look, assassins rarely last long in Vale. Either their contract goes wrong, or they were set up from the start. The best ones, the ones that get to retire, know when they need to bail on a contract. This is one of those.”

Mercury laughed into his soda. “Do you have any idea how dangerous Cinder is?”

“All the more reason to run. She could easily have you killed once you’ve played your part.”

“If I ran, I’d be dead within a day.” Mercury shook his head. “You don’t have a clue. You think you know, but trust me, you don’t. Don’t bother trying to fight her. She’ll only make you suffer for it.”

Cardin’s hands tightened into fists under the table. “Thanks for the advice,” he said wryly. “Should we head back now?”

“Yes, let’s.”

On the way out, he stopped by Junior’s counter. He fished around in his pockets for lien cards, but he had spent them all last time.

“Sorry Junior, I’m out. I’ll swing by the bank and pay you this afternoon.”

Junior waved him away. “It was just soda. On the house.”

Cardin smiled and thanked him. A short walk and a Bullhead trip later, they were back at Beacon. Emerald was waiting at the Bullhead terminal and took Mercury the moment they arrived. Mercury didn’t say a word as he was wheeled back to Cinder’s room.

On his way back to his room, he nearly ran into Yang. She was carrying an empty glass to the cafeteria.

“Oh, hey Cardin. Weiss just got back. It was her appendix after all.”

“I see. Mind if I check up on her?”

Yang nodded towards the open door. Cardin walked past her and found Blake and Ruby standing around Weiss’ bed. She stared blankly up at the ceiling. When they saw him, Ruby looked away while Blake glowered at him.

“Just seeing how she is,” Cardin said. He went up to the bed for a closer look. Her eyes didn’t twitch as he entered her field of view.

“She’s still out of it,” Ruby said. With a grimace, she added, “Aura blockers.”

Cardin winced, remembering his own surgery. Still, the timing was bugging him. Right after they moved on to finals, Weiss went ill. Now Yang would be their finalist. He felt a shudder run down his spine.


	32. Wrath

Amity Colosseum was full near to bursting as the city streets were flooded with another crowd of tourists that had come for the finals. What few empty seats that had once speckled the stands of the floating colosseum were packed, with more spectators standing in the aisles and on the stairs. A handful of adventurous people had even clambered onto the metal girders lining the walls.

Cardin counted himself lucky that he wouldn’t be sitting up there today. At the moment, he stood on the stone battlefield, staring up at the commentators’ booth, as Port and Oobleck introduced him and the other students standing in a line on either side of him.

To his left was the monkey Faunus. He twirled his staff with his tail and shot finger-guns and a cheerful smile at a group of girls in the lower stands. Just past him was Yang, waving up at her sister and flexing her biceps for the crowd.

To his right was Penny, the Atlas student with the floating swords. She didn’t twitch the entire time he watched her. Even her chest didn’t seem to move, as though she weren’t breathing.

Another student down stood Jaune Arc.

When he saw Jaune come into the colosseum’s locker room, he nearly did a double-take, and his heart soared. After spending all that time plotting Pyrrha’s removal and thinking he had failed, she dropped out of the tournament of her own accord. He was looking forward to seeing her explain herself on tonight’s news.

There were three more in the lineup, a Vacuan hidden under a black cowl, an Atlesian student bedecked with high-tech Dust gear, and a scarred Mistraltan who favored a cavalier brown vest and feathered cap.

As Professors Oobleck and Port gave the crowd the rundown on the eight finalists, Cardin reviewed what he had learned. Of the eight, Jaune’s large Aura reserves, sudden increase in skill, and relatively unknown Semblance made him an unpredictable, but manageable opponent. Yang had firepower on her side, but Cardin had plans for her. Penny would be a problem, but with luck, she’d be somebody else’s problem.

A cheer rose from the crowd as the professors announced the start of the finals. The digital roulette whirled overhead, and the faces of Jaune and Sun came on the screen. Cardin and the other five finalists went back to the locker room, leaving the battlefield empty for the two combatants.

Made by Atlas and only used once a year for the Vytal Festival, Amity Colosseum’s locker room was an immaculate, steel-walled file of lockers. The back half of the room was divided into two, guys and girls each having their own set of bathrooms, showers, and changing rooms. Towards the front of the room, at the end of the rows of lockers, was a waiting room. They had a refrigerator stocked with snacks and beverages, a coffee machine, and a microwave. One long table sat at the center of a gray tile floor, with six chairs all on one side. A giant dust display took up the wall opposite the seats, showing the live match happening just beyond that wall.

Cardin grabbed a platter of celery sticks out of the table and took a seat at the far end of the table. The seat next to him was immediately taken. Fighting back an irritated scowl, Cardin turned, expecting to see Yang, but instead, he nearly jabbed his eye on Penny’s outstretched hand.

“Salutations! I am Penny Polendina, student and representative of Atlas Academy in this tournament. You are Cardin Winchester, heir to the Duchy of Winchester, and a representative and student of Beacon in this tournament, correct?”

Cardin nodded and went back to his snack. Penny studied the unaccepted handshake for a moment before poking Cardin in the shoulder.

“Excuse me,” she said, “You did not return the greeting or accept my handshake. Have I done something to offend you?”

“You might have a contact-based Semblance, so I would rather not take any risks.”

“Oh, I see!” Penny took out her Scroll and showed it to him. At a glance, he could tell it was her student transcript. “These are the documents that outline my capabilities as a fighter. As you can see, I do not have any abilities that rely on physical contact. Therefore, it is perfectly safe to shake my hand.” She put the Scroll on the table and held out her hand again.

Cardin scooted his chair away. “Your transcript isn’t exactly thorough, is it?”

Penny’s eyes widened. “Oh, right, you were talking with Ironwood the other day.” She leaned in closer and asked, “Did he tell you?”

“Tell me what?”

She watched him for a moment, eyes darting back and forth as if she were reading a book. Then she looked down and said, “It is nothing. Please do not inquire into the matter further.”

Before he could say anything else, she vanished into the changing area, leaving Cardin with yet another set of questions. He had his Scroll out to ask Mr. Schnee, but on the Dust screen, Oobleck counted down the start of the match, drawing Cardin’s attention away from Penny.

The moment the bell rang, Sun tried to rush in close, but Jaune’s Aura slashes kept him back, forcing him to pole vault and leap his way closer. Any time he got within striking range, Jaune’ shield would light up and shove him back. While Jaune’s Aura reserves steadily fell, the sweat dripping down Sun’s face after fifteen minutes of dodging hinted that he’d soon start taking hits.

One slash clipped Sun’s foot, knocking him end over end. He recovered smoothly on all fours, but Jaune had another slash ready. Sun rolled under it, but Jaune ran forward and slashed down with steel. The Faunus’ tail whipped around, coiling around the sword and twisting it aside, but the blade glowed and knocked the tail away.

Jaune backpedaled and put more Aura into his blade. There was a keening, high-pitched wail, like metal crushed in a vice, and Jaune’s blade flew apart in a burst of light. Metal shrapnel sliced across his face, sending bright flashes where his Aura absorbed the damage. Jaune staggered sideways, blinded and deafened by the explosion.

Sun charged into the opening, staff split apart into buckshot-spitting nunchaku. Jaune took a few hits before he raised his shield, but the two-pronged attack struck around Jaune’s defenses. Jaune shrunk the shield, wielding the sheath like a club, and though he got some hits in, he took twice as many, each one backed by an explosive shell. Within minutes, Jaune’s Aura sank into the red.

“Ooh, what an unfortunate accident for Mr. Arc!” Oobleck shouted over the roars of the crowd. “It would appear that his Semblance was too much for his weapon to handle, and it cost him the match. Now let’s see who fights next!”

Penny came up on the next round, pitted against the shawled figure from Vacuo. Cardin watched carefully as Penny directed each of her blades without a visible gesture. It seemed eerie to him, how she stood perfectly still as her blades leapt and dove towards her opponent. The shawled figure didn’t stand a chance, not with her arsenal of throwing knives and daggers. She could throw three at once, but it only took a single blade to deflect them, and a dagger in each hand can only block so many attacks. Within minutes, the shawl, and their Aura under it, were slashed to ribbons, and Penny was declared the winner.

The next round ostensibly excluded Yang and himself. His fingers nervously drummed against the hilt of his mace as he stared at the screen in the locker room without looking at it. 

Yang slapped a gauntleted hand on his shoulder, making him jump. “Tough luck. Looks like this’ll be your last round.”

Cardin didn’t answer her. He had planned this matchup for years, had extensively studied her twin-gauntlet techniques to the point that he could envision every step she would make in her attack, how far she would pivot her feet for a roundhouse punch, where a jump boosted by her buckshot would take her. Cinder had to realize he would be prepared for Yang, which begged the question why she set this match up when Penny would be far harder for him to win against.

“How’s Weiss?” he asked instead.

“Still in bed. Too bad she’s not going to see me kick your ass.”

Cardin took a deep breath, wondering how much to tell her. “Did Cinder or any of her teammates say anything to you?”

“No, why? Were they supposed to ask me to let you win, or something?” In a low growl, she said, “Not happening.”

Over the screen, they heard Oobleck announcing the end of the match, in favor of Mistral’s last student. Cardin followed Yang out to the battlefield. There were scorch marks and dents in the rock that were polished out by application of a thin layer of Earth Dust.

“And to end the day, we have Yang Xiao Long and Cardin Winchester, both first years at Beacon Academy! I don’t think we’ve had such a promising crop of students for years!”

“Very true,” Port said. “I haven’t seen a young man who showed as much raw masculinity as myself in all my years teaching here, but young Mr. Winchester may give me a run for my money once he graduates.” The portly professor punctuated the statement with a hearty guffaw.

“Yes, quite,” Oobleck said dryly. “Anyways, these two have been students together since primary school, so this is bound to be an exciting match. I personally am excited to see what else Mr. Winchester can do with the hidden chain in his weapon.”

“I also.” Professor Port stroked his mustache. The crackling of his facial hair came out over the speaker, and the crowd cringed at the sound. “The ladies don’t appreciate being teased, Mr. Winchester, and neither do I.”

Yang sighed and smirked up at the commentators’ booth. Prodding Cardin’s arm with her elbow, she said, “He’s really laying it on thick, isn’t he?”

Cardin ignored it all and hunted the crowd for any sign of Cinder. With the stands as packed as they were, it was all but impossible to pick out any individuals from the crowd. He could see Ruby, only because she was a bright red, wildly bouncing blur waving and trying to catch Yang’s attention. 

As he was about to give it up, he saw her. She, Nelly, Mercury, and Emerald had front row seats directly below the commentators’ booth. Despite the crowd, they had a buffer of empty seats around them. When Cinder saw he was looking, she gave him a wave and a cold, cruel smile.

So distracted he was, he almost missed the start of the match. As Oobleck counted down the seconds, Cardin’s attention snapped back in front of him, to Yang’s eager stance, poised to punch his Aura into hamburger. When Oobleck’s count hit zero and the horns blared, Yang rocketed forward, propelled by buckshot rounds. Cardin lashed out with the mace, but two more rounds knocked Yang sideways and struck Cardin’s left shoulder. The armor there took the brunt of the blow, but stinging little rounds ricocheted off his armor, and a few found his Aura.

As Yang circled around him, Cardin unfurled the chain. She backed away, studying him and waiting for him to make the next move.

“Looks like Mr. Winchester is about to use the chain,” Port said. “Very astute of him to show such a pretty lady everything he has.”

Cardin swung the weapon in a wide arc. Yang backpedaled as the ball grazed the front of her shirt. He swung it in wider and wider arcs, forcing Yang closer to the edge of the arena. On the final swing, Yang ducked underneath the chain and barreled towards him. Ready for the charge, Cardin retracted the chain and spun, spinning the ball in a tight arc. Before Yang could react, the ball clipped her shoulder, knocking her sideways. She staggered back, keeping her footing with a frantic feat of footwork.

He swung the weapon in wide arcs again, but Yang had a new idea. With a roar, she punched the ground. Cracks spiderwebbed out from the point of impact. Lunging aside, Yang punched again and again, cracking the stone into huge slabs. With a grunt, she lifted one with the help of her shotgun rounds. She raised more and more, until the battlefield was littered with upright boulders. When Cardin swung his weapon again, the chain wrapped around a boulder. Yang darted at the opening, but Cardin used the chain to swing himself out of harm’s way. 

He skidded to a stop on the other side of the boulder and waited. Yang rushed towards him, ready to blow the rock he was hiding behind to pieces. As the gauntlet clicked back, Cardin retracted the chain. The ball whipped out at blinding speed, dragging the chain with it. When Yang was just a pace away, the chain snagged around her legs. She let out a yelp and hit the ground with a thud, her legs squeezed together by the force of the retracting chain.

Cardin stepped out from behind the rock and heaved with all his might, forcing Yang’s legs into the air. He swung her around and around, letting the chain out inch by inch as he built momentum. She yanked at the chain, but it was wound too tightly for her to get free. 

When he had enough speed, he slammed her into a boulder. Aura flashed and sizzled as Yang crashed straight through the obstacle. With each boulder he slammed her into, another chunk of her Aura meter vanished, and she plunged closer to the red. She tried firing off her gauntlets to control her momentum and smashing rocks before she hit them, but with how fast she was spinning, she couldn’t aim. When that failed, she fired straight down, forcing herself higher into the air, but as she rose above the rocks, Cardin swung her up over his head and slammed her down into the arena floor. Before she could grab hold onto the broken rock or recover her footing, Cardin made the chain lighter and yanked her back into the air. 

As he swung Yang around, he kept an eye on her Aura gauge. He felt his heart race as it dropped closer and closer to the red. Soon, he was a few good hits away from winning, and he cheered with the crowd.

He blinked, and Yang was right in front of him, arm cocked back to knock his skull through the colosseum. Cardin yelped and retracted the chain, scrambling out of Yang’s kill zone. When he blinked again, Yang was on the ground thirty feet away from him, rubbing sore ribs and shoulders, eyes blazing like compressed suns. She pushed herself onto her feet, brushed dust off her shirt, and cracked her knuckles.

Stomach sinking somewhere near the planet’s core, Cardin scrambled for the Dust container on his wrist, but Yang didn’t give him time to grab it. Her gauntlets roared as she threw herself towards him. Her first punch struck the ground where he had stood, sending a shockwave through the arena. Cardin stumbled, rolled over the sharp stones strewn about, and leapt back on his feet. Yang’s next attack flew towards his chest. He only had time to bring his mace in front of him, deflecting the attack towards his right arm. Her fist slammed into his shoulder. Pain shot up his neck as the shoulder popped out of its joint with an audible smack. With that one attack, his Aura sank a quarter, and his arm hung uselessly at his side.

The next few minutes felt like a lethal game of tag. Cardin sprinted and sidestepped his way across the broken ring with all the half-acquired skill Blake had drilled into him, shoving rocks with his feet in a futile effort to trip up Yang. She pursued him relentlessly, batting aside thrown rocks and his mace with careless swats of her gauntlets and shaking the ground with each missed strike. Whenever he could, he spared a glance at the board, praying that Yang’s Semblance would burn out what little Aura she had remaining. Her Aura sank percent by percent, but Cardin was quickly losing his breath, and his own supply, though still in the green, wouldn’t last against a single direct hit.

Once Yang’s Aura dropped below a quarter, Cardin turned and swung his mace, letting the chain unfurl. The ball whirled towards Yang, but she caught the chain. In the split second he had to react, Cardin poured his Semblance into himself. Blood rushed to his head as his whole body grew lighter.

Yang tugged on the chain, and Cardin rocketed towards her. Mid-flight, Cardin reversed his Semblance and shot at Yang with the weight of a freight car. He swung at Yang, but dazed as he was from the sudden shifts in weight and unable to move his right arm, Cardin missed Yang by a foot. He normalized his weight a second before hitting the ground and rolled to a stop near the edge of the ring.

He had a few seconds to catch his breath as Yang strode towards him, but his lungs burned as they struggled for more air. His legs shook, and his sight blurred to a cream and yellow-colored blob slowly filling his field of view. Even with his Semblance, he couldn’t raise his mace any higher than his waist.

Staggering forward, Cardin lashed out with his left arm. Yang grabbed him by the wrist, and with the other hand, she punched him square in the chest. Buckshot broke his Aura into pieces, and he sailed over the side of the arena. 

“Victory by knockout and ring-out for Yang Xiao Long!” Oobleck said. “What an incredible match!”

A couple attendants rushed to Cardin’s side and helped him onto his feet. He had to lean on a shoulder as he hobbled up the steps to the arena. Yang stood at the center of the arena, covered in dust, smiling and waving to the crowd. As he came closer, she turned towards him with a smirk on her face.

“Gotta say, I thought you had me.”

Cardin thought back to the moment that, against all reason, he saw Yang rushing at him. “I thought I did too.” 

As they closed the distance, he could hear Yang panting beneath her grin. Her face and arms were turning purple, and she favored her left leg. 

“Looks like it’s over,” he said.

“Yep. But don’t worry, I’ll win for you.” She looked away. “I mean, I’ll kick everyone’s butt so you don’t feel so bad about it.”

Cardin’s eyes stung, but he refused to let any tears show. With Cinder’s grip on the media, being a finalist wouldn’t be nearly enough for interviews and news articles, the opportunities he needed to spin public opinion to his favor. Years of planning crumbled around him like a sandcastle, carefully sculpted schemes to leverage his popularity toppling and falling apart, the walls it would put in between him and the Dukes caving in.

“You do that,” he said numbly.

He held out his hand. Yang reached for it, and hesitated. Her eyes widened and blazed red. Before he knew what was happening, Yang’s fist was in his stomach. His feet left the ground, and his breath whooshed out of him in a gut-wrenching blast. A rib cracked, and he screamed soundlessly as pain burned his chest like a furnace.

The silence that filled the colosseum was broken by a bang. The sensation of molten iron, overpowering the previous pain, shot into his gut. His vision swam, and the sudden roar of the crowd fell to a distant din as he hit the ground.

The sudden heat of pain was replaced by a creeping chill that seeped outward from his stomach. Too weak to rise, Cardin reached for his stomach with a hand. His fingers sank into a hot puddle. His hand trembled as he held it closer to his face. Blood stained his palm and dripped onto his cheek. 

There was motion all around him, but he had trouble making out the figures. The attendants had fled and were replaced by gleaming Knights. A wall of them stood around him, while more had their guns trained on Yang. Then the wall was flung aside, making way for a copper-colored shape and another gleaming figure. A hand grabbed his wrist, and liquid warmth was pumped into his veins. His breath shuddered as torn tissue knitted itself together.

Two more white-clad people ran into view, bearing a stretcher between them. The hand at his wrist remained as two pairs at his shoulders and hips gently slid him onto the stretcher.

As they were about to move him, a silver person trailed by a squad of Knights approached them. They argued, but their words were lost to the tingling buzz that filled Cardin’s head.

The white-clad people were led away by Knights, and two more robots took the stretcher. He saw himself rising in the air, but he was beyond feeling anything but the burning, freezing vortex in his chest. 

As the world slid by, he hunted for Cinder. The world snapped into focus for one instant on the spot where he had seen Cinder. Mercury stared at him with an unreadable expression and Emerald was nursing a headache, but Cinder and Nelly had vanished.

His stretcher went down a narrow tunnel and emerged at a small Bullhead dock. He was loaded on board, and metallic hands held him horizontal on the seat as the pilot gunned the engines. The doors slid shut as the Bullhead lurched out of the station. Silver hair and eyes filled his dwindling field of view. The person said something, tinged with concern but indiscernible.

“Weiss?” he croaked. He coughed and tasted blood in his mouth.

“Stay with me. We’re almost there.” The words were muffled as though he had cotton in his ears. To the person at his side, she asked, “How much more can you handle, Jaune?”

“I don’t know,” he said in a strained voice. “I’ve never handled anything this bad before.”

“Hold on as long as you can. His life may depend on it.”

He tried to warn her about Cinder, tried to tell her not to let anyone near him, but his words came out as a rasping gurgle.

“Don’t try to speak. You’ll need your strength.”

The Bullhead swerved side to side as it came in for a landing. Cardin nearly rolled onto the floor, but metal hands stopped him short of the seat’s edge. They trundled him out of the bullhead and down another string of short hallways.

The hand beside him tightened, and shoes squeaked on the floor as Jaune stumbled. He growled, propped himself against the wall, and kept going.

After what felt like a year, two sets of hands, lifted him off the stretcher and onto a hard hospital mattress. Paper crinkled under him as he groaned and shifted.

A doctor sprinted into the room and hissed through his teeth when he saw Cardin. “Why the hell did you bring him here?” he asked. “He should be at Vale Central.”

“This was closer,” the woman said. “He might have bled out before we made it.”

The doctor peeled aside Cardin’s bloodied shirt and studied the wounds underneath. Cardin gasped and thrashed when the doctor’s gloved hand prodded one of the bullet wounds.

“His lower intestine’s been torn to shreds, but I think it missed his liver. The best I can do is stitch him up and get some blood in him. After that, he’ll be ready for the flight to Vale.”

“That will be a last resort. Your orders are to treat him here to the fullest of your abilities and send him to Vale only if he will die otherwise.”

“But-”

“Those orders are straight from Ironwood,” she snapped. “And besides, we have someone with a healing Semblance here. He’s already reversed much of the damage done, and he should be able to fix the rest.”

“But he should be-”

“This is not up for debate. For the time being, no ship will enter or leave our docks until the General gives the order. Now get to work.”

The woman left, leaving Cardin alone with the doctor and Jaune. The doctor phoned in the rest of the medical staff and went to his cabinets for medical supplies. Cardin never got to see what those were.

“Oh god, it’s coming up.” Jaune let go of Cardin’s wrist and rushed onto his feet. Scrambling for a bathroom and not finding one, Jaune threw up in the middle of the room and fell unconscious to the floor.

The last thing Cardin saw and heard before the cold and darkness took him was the doctor returning to the room with an armful of indistinct shapes, staring down at the mess and unconscious body, saying, “What the hell do I do now?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was another chapter that I’m very excited to see the reactions for. As much as I liked the execution of Cinder’s plan in the show, I felt that, one, it relied on no one noticing that Mercury has prosthetic legs, and two, why settle for a bit of unsportsmanlike conduct when you could trick Yang into killing someone on international television?
> 
> As for my new writing schedule, I’ve had plenty of success with it so far. So much so, in fact, that if I’m able to keep up this pace, I may have a new chapter out next Tuesday.


	33. The Fractured Team

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wait, what do you mean it’s not Friday yet? Where’s my weekend?
> 
> So, yes, doubling my writing schedule has gone well enough so far that I can start posting twice a week. I can’t guarantee it’ll stay like this forever, but the new schedule is sticking for now. Besides, I knew I couldn’t make you guys wait to find out what happened to Cardin.
> 
> Except Cardin’s not in this one. Oops.
> 
> Now for some announcements:
> 
> First off, I tweaked the summary again. Second, as I said before, bi-weekly posts for the time being. If that changes, I'll let you know.
> 
> And third, big one, I think it’s about time this story had some proper cover art. I’m putting my money where my mouth is on this one. I’m willing to pay around fifty dollars for cover art for this story. For any readers interested in this, I’ll give you a week to hit me up, show me an example of what you can do, and give me a price tag. I’m willing to spend more, but I better be impressed by what I see. If I don’t get any offers in a week, I’ll sniff around Deviantart and see what I find. Either way, I hope to have something for this story before it’s over.

\----------

Yang stood over a pool of Cardin’s blood, numb to the world, as she watched the past thirty seconds play out on the giant display overhead. She knew what she saw, she knew she saw Cardin lunging at her with his mace, crouching low, hoping to smash her kneecap into powdered bone, and she knew she saw her fist connect with his breastplate, blasting him harmlessly away with a shotgun blast. The screen showed a different picture. On the screen, Cardin had held out his hand for a congratulatory shake, and she shot his guts out. She knew what she saw, but that didn’t change the fact that the only thing keeping Cardin from dying at her feet was the torrent of Aura pouring into him from Jaune.

She didn’t even notice when the robotic Knights tore the gauntlets off her hands, nor did she pay any mind to where they were taking her. Her mind was stuck on that gut-wrenching second the world snapped back into place, when Cardin’s armor squelched and bled around her fingers, when she could feel his heartbeat pounding on her hand, and when he slid off of her with a breathless moan, pale and cold as fresh-fallen snow.

When hunger snapped out of her shock, she found to her surprise that she was back in her room. For a blissful moment, she imagined that she had dreamed up the whole thing until she went to the bathroom to take a shower. As she reached for the curtain, Cardin’s blood was still on her right hand. She scrubbed her hands over and over in the sink, but no matter how much soap and water she used, she couldn’t remove the red tinge from her arm.

A firm knock came at the door. Before Yang could reach it, the door opened just wide enough to let someone slide a platter through. They had given her a buttered roll, a thick-cut slice of cold ham, a pickle, and a glass of water. Assembling her sandwich with just her left hand was tricky, but the thought of touching her food with her sullied hand made her sick to her stomach.

When she knocked on the door, no one answered her. She shouted for whoever was on the other side to tell her what was going on, to let her know where Ruby was, to say something, but only silence answered her. She tried opening the door, but it was locked from the outside.

Anger boiled up in her, and she balled up a fist. Her hand trembled as she goaded herself into smashing the door to splinters, grabbing whoever was standing closest to her by the collar and shaking them for answers, but she couldn’t pry her eyes away from the bloodstains on her fingers. The anger froze into a cold, solid lump in her throat. With nothing else to do, she curled up in her blankets and closed her eyes.

Before Yang could fall asleep, a knock came at the door, this one gentle, almost hesitant from the way it caressed the wood. Yang pulled the covers tighter over her head and hid beneath the pillow.

“Sis?” Ruby asked from the other side of the door. “Are you okay?”

Yang sat up. She had to fight to keep the desperation out of her voice. “Ruby? I’m awake, come on in.”

Ruby came in first, followed by Weiss and Blake. Her sister sat on her bed, while the other two teammates stayed in the opposite corner. The door clicked shut behind them.

“Is Cardin…” Words failed Yang as her throat seized up. Ruby took her hand, but the troubled frown and her refusal to meet her eyes made Yang’s heart plummet.

“We don’t know,” Ruby said. “Weiss’ sister had him taken to the Atlas flagship. It’s closer than Vale’s hospital, and, well, they didn’t even know if he would make it there.” She forced a smile, and her voice grew hopeful. “Jaune was helping, so it might not be so bad. We just have to wait and see.”

Tears ran down Yang’s cheeks as she grabbed Ruby’s cloak and dragged her closer for a hug. The words poured out of her in a frantic flood. “You have to believe me Ruby, I saw Cardin attacking me. I thought I was defending myself, then the next thing I knew, he was on the ground. I swear, I wasn’t trying to kill him! It was just a tap on his armor, I was just trying to knock him away, please Ruby, you trust me, right?”

“Really?” Weiss asked. “That’s your excuse? Please, we all know how much you hate Cardin. Don’t try to tell us it was self-defense when we watched you kill him over a handshake.”

“Shut up!” Yang hissed. Ruby squired out of her arms and backed away. “You don’t know what the hell you’re talking about. I saw him attack me, I swear! You’re just mad that I hit your crush!”

“She has a point, Yang,” Blake said.

Yang felt the floor fall out from under her. “Blake?”

“I don’t know what happened out there,” Blake said. “Maybe you saw something, or maybe you didn’t. Either way, what you did was completely out of line. You let your anger control you, again, and this time, you might have killed a student in front of the whole world. Everyone saw what you did, what a student from Beacon did, and to one of their own classmates no less.” She crossed her arms and looked out the window. “There’s talk of having Ozpin resign and firing the teachers. Some people even say the Vytal Festival should be banned, if students are going to kill each other to win it. Like it or not, Yang, your anger has consequences, and you’re not the only person suffering for them.”

Yang tried to argue against her, that it wasn’t her fault, that people are overreacting and everything would blow over in a couple days, maybe a week at most, but she could barely breathe.

In the silence that followed Blake’s lecture, Weiss cleared her throat. “I had been considering this for some time, but I’ve made my decision, and it is final. After the Vytal Festival is over, I’m going home.”

Both Blake and Ruby looked at her in shock. Yang’s anger returned, and she shouted, “You’re just going to run away? Coward!”

“Run away?” Weiss asked. “You and your sister have been nothing but nuisances all year, and you expect me to put up with it? Ruby, I know you’ve been trying to be a good leader, but you let Yang get away with her silly grudge against Cardin, and this is the result. And you, Yang, you never stopped complaining about him. I don’t know what he did to rub you the wrong way, but you should have let it go a long time ago. Instead, you stayed angry this whole time, you spread nasty rumors about his behavior, harassed him at every opportunity, and now, you killed him.” To Blake, she said, “Don’t think you’re off the hook either.”

“You’re still mad about the docks?” Blake asked.

“There’s that. You went off on a suicide mission, alone, without telling us.” Blake opened her mouth, but Weiss cut in, “That miscreant doesn’t count. And not only that, I still feel like you’re keeping secrets. It’s not like you stopped wearing that bow, is it?”

Blake’s hands went up to the fabric around her ears. “I like wearing it,” she said meekly.

“That’s a lie and we both know it.” Weiss went to the door and gave her teammates a haughty frown. “I will be staying with Klein for the time being. Good luck sorting out this mess.”

The door slammed behind her as she left. Blake put a hand on Ruby’s shoulder as she went to leave. “I don’t know what I’ll do yet, but for the time being, Jaune made space in his room. Call me if you need me.” Taking a deep breath, she added as she crossed the doorway, “Weiss was harsh, but I think she’s right. Think about it and decide what you need to do.”

Yang shook as Blake left the room. She didn’t dare break the chilly silence that settled between her and her sister. Ruby looked back at the closed door and blinked back some tears.

“Yang, I believed in you.”

Yang’s voice, worn raw by emotion and crying, came out as a hoarse croak. “Ruby?”

“I wanted Weiss to be wrong. I wanted Cardin to be the bad guy so I could say you were right and end the arguing, so I could show her I was not letting you be angry for no reason. But she was right about both of us.”

“Ruby, no, please, I didn’t mean it, I swear!”

“Ozpin made me the leader of this team. I don’t know why he picked me. I’m younger than the rest of you and can’t do anything right. We couldn’t even get through one year without everything fall to pieces. Weiss would’ve made you behave better.”

“You can’t be serious! You think that stuck-up bitch would’ve been better than you?”

“You’ve been in detention ever since we got here!” Ruby yelled. “You destroyed school property, mouthed off at Goodwitch, got in fights, and went out drinking! And now, you might have killed Cardin.”

“Ruby, I–”

“It’s my responsibility.” Ruby spoke in a low, solemn voice. “I am the leader of this team, and it is my responsibility to make sure my team does what it’s supposed to do. Look at us. You killed someone on TV, Blake nearly got killed by the White Fang, and now, Weiss is leaving.”

“None of that’s your fault!” Yang reached for Ruby to hug her, draw her close, but Ruby drew away, towards the door, gripping her cloak in both hands.

“I could have stopped it, if I was a better leader.” She took a deep breath and put a hand on the doorknob. “Maybe it’s too late, but I have to try.”

“Try what?”

Ruby stared into Yang’s eyes, and Yang found herself looking down in the floor, unable to match Ruby’s unwavering, stern gaze. Ruby cleared her throat and said, “Yang, use your head. You can’t solve all your problems by punching them to death. Everywhere you go, I see you getting into arguments and solving them by giving the other person a bloody nose. That has to stop. As a Huntress, you’re expected to protect people, and no one’s going to feel safe around someone with a horrible temper.” Tears streamed down Ruby’s cheeks as her tirade faltered. “Just… just stop, please.”

“Ruby, wait!”

“I’m staying with dad. Sorry.”

With her face buried in her sleeve, Ruby flung open the door and vanished in a cloud of rose petals.

Yang called after her, but the door was closed, and she was long gone. A fresh trickle of tears poured out of her as she balled up in her bed, drawing the sheets tight around her. By the time she moved again, the sun had already set, and the food left at the door had gone cold. Driven out of bed by hunger, she spooned beef stew into her mouth without tasting it, gnawed at the bun without adding butter, and drank the water in one long gulp.

As she went back to the bed, a knocking sound echoed in the room. Yang hid under the sheets and mumbled, “Go away.”

The rapping got louder, more insistent.

“I said go away!”

The knocking got loud enough to rattle the glass. That was when she realized the knocking wasn’t at the door, but at the window.

Qrow was perched on the window ledge, peering through the hole in the curtains. He grinned as Yang walked over.

“Hey, mind letting me in?” he asked, his voice muffled by the glass.

Yang opened the window by a crack. “Are you supposed to be in here?”

“No, so keep it down. Goodwitch is outside your door, and she wouldn’t let me in without taking my booze.”

Yang smothered a laugh and threw open the window. Qrow stretched his arms and rolled into the room.

“They don’t have anyone watching the window?” Yang asked.

“I guess not.”

“So, if I wanted to, I could just climb out the window and run for it?”

Qrow shrugged. “Nothing’s stopping you, I suppose.”

Yang looked out the window. True to his words, there wasn’t anyone in sight on campus grounds. She looked up and only saw the ledge of the next story up.

“Would you say something if I ran for it?”

Qrow frowned and took a deep breath. “It’s your choice. I won’t stop you.”

Yang looked out the window again, and shut it. She sat down on the bed, and Qrow sat next to her. He took his flask out of his jacket pocket and took a quick swig. The cap wasn’t open for more than a few seconds, but the smell of alcohol hit her nose like a hammer.

“So, why’d you do it?” Qrow asked.

Yang’s fingers closed around the bedsheets in a white-knuckled grip. “I didn’t mean to, I swear!”

“Why?”

“I – he was attacking me, I mean, I saw him attacking me, and I was just trying to knock him back–”

“Why?”

“I was defending myself.” Yang crossed her arms. “He was attacking me, and I was defending myself.”

Qrow put a hand on her shoulder. “Why did you really do it?”

Yang looked into his cold crimson eyes. Her breath hitched, and she started shaking.

“I didn’t have a why. I saw him coming after me, attacking me even after he lost, and I got pissed. What am I supposed to do, let him clobber me?”

Taking another swig of alcohol, Qrow put his head in his hands and massaged his temples. “Let’s suppose for the sake of argument that Cardin was actually attacking you, as you described. What would’ve happened if you did nothing?”

“He would’ve hit me. He was aiming for my knee, I think he was trying to break it.”

“Which would suck,” Qrow said, “But on the bright side, Cardin would’ve been the one locked in his room, not you. Going back to our little story, what would happen if you hit him like you wanted to.”

“Then I wouldn’t get hurt, and Cardin would still be in trouble.”

“Yes, but what else would have happened to Cardin?”

Yang looked at her uncle. “What do you mean?”

“How badly would you have hurt Cardin by doing that?”

“I dunno, probably some bruises, which would serve him right.”

“He was out of Aura. If stray buckshot from that round you shot wouldn’t hit something, then the impact would’ve broken ribs, even through his armor. Trust me, I know how hard you can punch, and you put everything behind that one. People would sympathize with him a little if they felt you had also gone too far.”

“So, what, you’re saying I shouldn’t do anything when people attack me?”

“I’m saying you should be more careful. Maybe, instead of using your Semblance and a bullet on someone with their Aura broken, just dodge, or if you have to, go for a regular punch. It still would’ve been a media shitshow, but at least we wouldn’t have a dead student on our hands.”

Yang stopped breathing. Her heart hammered in her chest, and the world spun around her. She would’ve fallen out of bed if Qrow hadn’t caught her. “He’s dead?”

“Not yet,” Qrow said grimly, “But last we heard, he’s in rough shape. Atlas took Cardin onto their flagship, and they don’t have the right equipment for the job. What’s worse, Ironwood’s stopping us from taking him.”

“What about Jaune? Couldn’t he use his Semblance?”

“He tried. According to Winter, he passed out right when they made it to the doctors. Turns out he spent too much of his Aura fighting that other kid.”

“So, what? Ironwood’s just going to let him die?”

Qrow scowled. “I wouldn’t put it past the bastard, except he’d look really bad for keeping him. More likely, Ironwood’s worried that someone intends to finish the job.”

“What do you mean?”

“He’s a Duke’s son, and from what Ozpin tells me, plenty of Dukes have something to gain from Cardin’s death. Given how the media won’t shut up about forcing Ironwood to hand over Cardin, I think the Headmasters are right.”

“So, what? Did they plan this?”

“That is a very good question.” He paused for a swallow of liquor. “You keep saying that you saw Cardin attack you.”

“I’m not crazy, I know what I saw!”

“Whether you’re crazy or not is up for debate. However, it’s not entirely out of the question that someone might have a Semblance that could make you see things.”

Yang punched her bed hard enough to make the stacks of books holding up Blake’s bunk slide an inch. “That has to be it. Someone set me up!”

“Easy firecracker. It’s only a possibility. Ozpin isn’t entirely sure such a Semblance exists, and even if it did, it would be impossible to prove that it was used on you.” He gave her a stern frown. “And even if it is true, it doesn’t excuse how you reacted.”

At her uncle’s words, the fire died in her chest. She sagged forward and rested her head on her hands. “Then what do we do?”

“Well, that depends. Best case scenario, Cardin pulls through, then we very politely ask him not to press charges. It’ll still go to the criminal courts, but considering you’re still a minor and didn’t kill anyone, the worst they can do is give you six months of juvie and ban you from Huntsmen Academies.”

“Banned? But, if I didn’t kill him – that’s not fair!”

“If he does die,” Qrow went on, ignoring her protests, “It’ll be ten years in the slammer.”

The blood rushed out of Yang’s face. “Oh gods, Ruby. Would I be able to see her?”

“I’m sure she’d visit. Just don’t expect to be bringing her birthday presents anymore.”

More tears fell to the blankets in Yang’s lap. “But – I didn’t want this! I didn’t mean to, I – there has to be a way to make this right.” She looked up at her uncle. “Isn’t there?”

Qrow wrapped an arm around Yang’s shoulder and hugged her close. “I wish there was, but fact is, that’s not how life works. Sometimes, yeah, you get a chance to fix your mistakes, but more often, you have to deal with it. And you will deal with it. You’re strong enough to take whatever life throws at you. It’s not going to be fun. You might never get to be a Huntress, or see Ruby very often, or get any liquor that wasn’t smuggled in through the back door, but you will manage. I know you will. This isn’t your first mistake, and it won’t be your last. We all make them. Heck, Ozpin loves saying how he’s made more mistakes than anyone else alive.”

“But I’m still going to prison for this, aren’t I?”

With a long, deep sigh, Qrow shook his half-empty flask and stared at the light shimmering off its metal surface. “You’re still looking for your mom. Your biological mother.”

Yang didn’t meet his eyes. “I want to know why.”

“I don’t think that even she knows why,” Qrow said. “But that’s not the point. Your dad and I talked it over, and we both agree that it looked like an accident, or if Ozpin is right, foul play. If it’s just the six months, we think that’s fair, but neither of us think you’d deserve the ten years you’d get if Cardin dies. So, I have a suggestion.”

“I’m guessing it involves mom?”

“Excellent guess.” He looked her over one more time before saying, “Your mom doesn’t exactly live on the right side of the law. She leads a bandit camp, though I’m not telling you where just yet. If you want to, I could get you to her, and she would take you in.”

“Bandits? Wouldn’t I have to… kill people?”

“Yep. That’s what bandits do. You’d roam from town to town, killing anyone that crosses your path, stripping homes of valuables, and running like hell before the Grimm show up. It’s a cruel life, and the people are worse, but you’d be free, and you’d be with your mother.”

Yang looked down at her hands for a moment. “I’d never see Ruby or dad, you, or anyone else again, would I?”

Qrow shook his head. Yang grabbed for her uncle and wrapped him in a tight hug.

“I’m not going anywhere. I’ll never be like my mom.”

Returning the hug, Qrow said, “I had a feeling you’d say that.” He drew up from the embrace, but kept his hands on her shoulders. “I swear, if anyone’s responsible for this, I’m going to find them and beat them to a pulp.”

“Don’t beat them up.” At Qrow’s raised eyebrows, Yang grinned and slammed her fists together. “I want to do it myself.”

Qrow chuckled and made a mock bow. “As my niece commands.”

He took his flask, unscrewed the top, and offered it to Yang.

“Really?” Yang asked, taking the flask. “Dad would kill you.”

Qrow shrugged. “I know you’ve done your fair share of underage drinking. Goodwitch wouldn’t shut up about it.” He chuckled at Yang’s sheepish expression. “That might be your last drink for a long time, and trust me, window liquor tastes way better than any of the backdoor stuff.”

Yang brought the flask to her lips, but before she took a swallow, she lowered it and stared pensively into the dark opening. With a sigh, she screwed the top back on and handed it to her uncle.

“What, too strong for you? I could get one of those stupidly sweet strawberry things you like.”

“No, thanks uncle Qrow. I think I’ll hold off for a while.”

“What, worried about losing control?” Qrow waved his sword in front of him. “You don’t see me chopping up everyone in my path, do you?”

“That’s because you’re too drunk to hit anything.”

“Hey, watch it,” he said in a playful growl as he made to tickle Yang. She let out a muffled shriek and shuffled away from him, but he didn’t follow after her.

“It’s not that,” Yang said after she regained her composure. “It would probably look bad if people found out I got drunk right after nearly killing someone.”

Qrow put away the liquor. “At least one of us is using their head. Well, guess I’ll save you one for after this mess is over. Deal?”

Yang gave him another hug. “Deal.”

*******

“Thank you for setting this all up on such short notice,” Weiss said as she plopped onto the hotel room’s bed.

Sitting on an air mattress, Klein neatly folded Weiss’ dresses and packed them in suitcases. “It was no trouble at all, Weiss. It must be hard for you to see what had happened to your teammate.”

“She had it coming,” Weiss said coldly. “She was always too hot-tempered for her own good.”

After an awkward silence, Klein asked, “Are you sure you want to go back, after all the effort you put into convincing your father to let you come here? I know it’s bad now, but it’ll blow over in a couple weeks.”

“I’m sure. I was a fool for ever leaving. If I want to run the company some day, I have to work for it. Playing around in Vale won’t do any good.”

“If that is what you wish.” Klein hid a worried frown as he kept packing.

*******

“I thought Jaune would be here,” Blake said as she set her bag of clothes and toiletries on the floor.

“He’s still on the Atlas flagship.” Pyrrha slid the spare sheets over Jaune’s bed. “And it doesn’t look like he’ll be back anytime soon, from what we heard.”

“Which means we get to have an all-girls sleepover!” Nora shouted. “Who wants to play truth or dare?”

“Um, Nora, I’m not a girl.”

Out of her purse, Nora snatched out a handful of makeup and accessories. “Don’t worry, we can fix that.”

Ren looked back at Blake with a stoic expression of silent suffering as Nora dragged him into the bathroom. A minute later, he came back out with blush, eyeliner, lipstick, and Nora’s spare pajamas, complete with a bra padded with towels.

“All set! Now let’s get started!” She sat them down in a circle in the middle of the floor and asked Pyrrha, “Truth or dare?”

Pyrrha looked helplessly at the two students sitting at either side of her and said, “Truth?”

Nora grinned and asked, “Who’s your biggest crush?”

*******

The moment Ruby opened the door, she vanished in a flash of rose petals and slammed into Taiyang. She buried her face in his chest, sobbing into his shirt.

“Everything will be alright, Ruby,” he said as he stroked her hair. “We’ll find a way.”

“I can’t believe I said that to her!” Ruby wailed. “What kind of sister am I?”

Taiyang reached around his daughter to turn on the coffee maker. “The kind of sister that cares very much. So, why don’t you tell me what happened?”


	34. The Defender

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Full steam ahead! Looks like I’ll be able to keep up the new writing pace, which is nice, because I’m itching to work on some other ideas I have. A younger, less intelligent me might have tried working on two stories at once. Been there, done that, not making that same mistake again, thank you very much.
> 
> Had some fun with a computer update yesterday. I got about a half-hour of work done, went to save, and found that I couldn’t – the document was opened as a read-only file. It took me about as long to save the work to a flash-drive, figure out that I needed to change the permissions on the C drive to allow me to edit my own files and then implement those changes as it took to write what progress I was trying to save. And now my computer wants to make another update. It can wait until I have this posted.

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Cardin awoke to a boiling hot sensation coursing through his right arm. Opening his eyes, he saw Jaune, disheveled and sweaty, pouring Aura into his wrist. He had dark bags under his eyes, and his head was slumped forward. He looked as though he’d fall off his chair at any moment.

“Jaune?” Cardin croaked. “What happened?”

Jaune’s eyes snapped forwards, and some warmth returned to his face. “You’re up. Good. I’m going to bed now.”

The warmth in his arm cut off abruptly as Jaune rose from his chair and wobbled out the door. The cold crept inward, and he nearly passed out, but a sudden spurt of adrenaline kept his eyes open. As he took in the foreign room, its stark walls and stiff mattress, its sparse collection of medical equipment, and the IV trailing out of his left hand, panic stirred his mind.

Pieces of memory came to him slowly as he struggled to recreate the events that led him to this room. The conversation with Penny came back first, but he shoved it aside, digging deeper for answers. Bits of the match against Yang replayed themselves, but jumbled, like a jigsaw puzzle with the pieces crammed together willy-nilly. As he remembered his defeat, struggling to hold back frustrated tears, the moment hit him. Eyes wide, he forced his head up. Swollen red lines criss-crossed with blue stitching marred the skin around his stomach.

The doctor jogged into the room, his blue scrubs stained by sweat marks. “Thank the Brothers, you’re finally awake. Are you able to talk?”

Cardin licked his lips, suddenly aware of how parched his mouth was. “Water.”

The doctor handed him a cup. It held only a spoonful of water, but the trickle that went down his throat revitalized him.

“Where am I?”

“Aboard the Defender,” the doctor answered. “Pride of the Atlas Air Fleet.”

Cardin scrunched up his brow. “Why here?”

The doctor tsked in irritation. “You have Ironwood to thank for that one. I tried telling them you needed to go to Vale Central, but they insisted on having you treated here.”

Another memory returned, the two empty seats where Cinder and Nelly had sat, as crystal clear as a photograph before his mind’s eye. He smiled.

“Good,” Cardin said as the doctor studied his expression. “The food at that place sucks.”

The doctor chuckled. “Believe me, our food is worse. How does freeze-dried refried beans sound?” He consulted the charts next to Cardin’s bed. “Not that you’ll be eating anything until tomorrow.”

“How bad was it?”

The doctor took a deep breath and flipped through the charts. “The good news, she missed everything important. No damage to your lungs, liver, or kidneys. The bad news, a lot of your small intestine was destroyed beyond repair. I had to remove half of it. You should be fine, but I’d advise taking nutrient supplements to make up for the loss of absorption.” The doctor grumbled under his breath, “The doctors in Vale might’ve been able to save it, but I had to make do with what I have. Also, you’ll also need to take antibiotics for the next month.”

“Thank you, doctor. Could you let Ironwood know that I’m ready to talk to him?”

“You should rest some more. Jaune did a lot, but your Aura’s still depleted, and the internal injuries haven’t completely healed yet. You can talk to him tomorrow.”

“Now, doctor.” Cardin put as much emphasis into his voice as he could. “There’s no time to waste.”

“Fine. You’re to keep it under ten minutes.”

Cardin nodded, and the doctor went to a phone in the other room. Just a few minutes later, General Ironwood and Winter stepped into the room.

“One visitor at a time,” the doctor said, barring the door against Winter. “I can’t have the patient stressed out.”

The General nodded, and Winter stood out next to the door. At a signal from Ironwood, the doctor closed the door, leaving Cardin alone with him.

“Was it Cinder?” Ironwood asked.

Cardin nodded. “She had a front row seat, but she was gone when I was taken away. Where did she go?”

“I don’t know. She and a teammate left the stands a few minutes before it happened. We weren’t able to track them on the cameras.” He stared down at Cardin’s midsection, examining the criss-cross of red lines and blue stitching. “Do you think Yang was complicit in her plans?”

He shook his head and said, “I asked if Cinder had spoken to her. She acted surprised, but not nervous. Not to mention, she may hate my guts, but not enough to kill me. What happened to her anyways?”

“She’s under house arrest for now, and she was disqualified from the tournament. Once this whole mess is sorted, she’ll face charges for assault, along with any civil lawsuits for damages you would like to present.” The last bit had the hint of a question behind it.

“I don’t intend to press charges, but I might not have a choice. I’ll have to speak with my father about it.”

Ironwood scooted a chair next to Cardin’s bed and sat down. “By the way, it was decided that the rest of finals would be postponed until you recover.”

Cardin had to hold back a laugh at that. Whatever Cinder had done to make Yang try to kill him gave him another shot at winning the Festival. Even with Aura, a few days wouldn’t be enough to heal severe internal injuries, but perhaps Jaune’s Semblance would get him ready in time.”

“Do you think it’s safe for you to return to Beacon?” Ironwood asked.

Cardin chuckled dryly, which turned into a hacking cough. Ironwood leaned forward, offering a helping hand, but Cardin waved it away.

“Cinder may as well have snipers on every roof for how safe I’d be there, but I can’t stay on here for too long.”

Ironwood frowned. “There’s been… pressure to release you to the care of Vale Central.”

“Let me guess, a media shitstorm about how I’m dying, and Atlas is trying to finish me off so Penny will win, or something?”

Ironwood groaned and buried his face in his hands. “I swear, if I have to listen to another hour of that filth, I’m bombing the news stations. If it’s not us trying to secure victory in the Vytal Festival, it’s holding him hostage for political advantage, or getting even for splitting up our army. And that’s when they even bother to try to explain why we’re stopping the ‘finest doctors in the world’ from saving ‘Beacon’s star pupil’.”

Cardin snorted. “Give me five minutes in front of a camera. They’ll be singing praises for your decisive and generous aid.”

“Until the five o clock news, when they say I forced you to cover for me.”

“That’s politics for you.”

A knock came at the door. Ironwood tried talking the doctor into extending the conversation, but the doctor all but shoved him out the door. The doctor gave him another glass of water and a little white pill. Within minutes of taking the medicine, the dull ache in his chest faded away, and before he knew what was happening, he was out like a light.

He woke the next morning, famished enough to wolf down the sludge-like oatmeal mush the doctor had apologetically set before him. Once he had finished eating, he looked down at his chest. The stitching was gone, but pink scars still trailed across his stomach. The doctor had explained that Jaune healed him through the night, that his internal injuries had healed without complications, and he had more Jaune therapy sessions scheduled throughout the day.

Shortly after breakfast, Ironwood returned to his room. It took pulling rank three times and threatening to throw the doctor out the nearest dock door to get them alone. Cardin was still confined to his bed, but he was able to sit up with the help of some pillows propped around his back and sides.

“I announced that you have recovered enough to leave our care,” Ironwood said. “Officially, the doctor says you are to stay in a wheelchair until tomorrow morning. Winter has generously volunteered to escort you while you are recovering.”

“Bad idea,” Cardin said. “There’s enough talk already of me working with the SDC, of possible arrangements.”

Ironwood looked puzzled for a moment, but his face hardened when he saw the implications. “I see. Then who would you suggest? I could assign you any of my soldiers.”

“What about Penny?”

Ironwood was taken aback. “Why her?”

“It’d look good, having a Vytal Festival finalist helping another finalist recover. Good sportsmanship and all that.”

With a smile, Ironwood said, “I’ll send for her. Anything else?”

Cardin thought back to the conversation with Penny. “Yes, actually. Is Penny some sort of project of yours?”

Ironwood grimaced. “How’d you figure that out?”

“She thought you told me her secret. I said something about her transcript not being very thorough, so I’m guessing there’s something you’re hiding.”

Looking off to the side, Ironwood said, “It’s nothing relevant to our Cinder problem, and it would be best if word doesn’t get out.”

“If it’s something you don’t want people knowing, that makes it even more important I know. You wouldn’t want Cinder using that secret against you, right?”

“It’s not one I can see her using.” Ironwood stroked his right arm for a moment. “However, I suppose I can trust you.”

As Ironwood explained the details of Doctor Polendina’s project, Cardin felt his jaw drop.

“Let’s see if I understand this correctly,” Cardin said. “You created a robot with a soul that can perfectly mimic human appearance and behavior.” He thought back to Penny’s antics and amended, “Well, almost perfectly. You snuck this robot into Vale as a student without telling the general public, and you plan to have it win the Vytal Festival to show how amazing it is.”

“She is,” Ironwood cut in.

“Whatever. Don’t you think people are going to freak out about this?”

“What do you mean?”

“You created a weapon that can stand toe to toe with a trained Huntsman, one that can blend into human society and acts directly under your control. Don’t you think that’ll make people paranoid? For all they know, their neighbor could be an Atlesian robot, reporting everything they say and do to you. They might even think a robot uprising could be brewing without anyone the wiser. And, pop quiz Ironwood, what happens when feelings of fear and paranoia spread through a major population center?”

“The situation is under control,” Ironwood said. “The Dukes have been made aware of Penny’s unique circumstances and have agreed to sponsor this project. They were very eager to see a mass-manufactured weapon to stand against the Grimm in place of people.”

“Those Dukes work for Cinder. She knows, and I bet you anything she’s planning to unmask your pet project in front of the world. And those same Dukes who told you it was fine to conduct military experiments in Vale will claim they had no idea and that you had snuck a dangerous weapon into Vale, disguised as an innocent-looking child.”

“We have written agreements!”

“And I’m sure they were accidentally dropped into a paper shredder.”

As Ironwood silently fumed over Valean politics, Cardin assessed all the options. They could try to bury the fact, but Cinder would undoubtedly find a way to dredge it up at the worst possible moment. They could have Penny withdraw from the Vytal Festival due to health complications or some other vague reason, but Cinder could expose such thin excuses as lies to get a military project out of Vale before it was discovered.

“You have to go public with this,” Cardin said. “Right now.”

“We’re already have the media shelling us and you want me to give them more ammunition?”

“That’s what makes it the perfect time. People are already up in arms about Yang, so Penny won’t get as much attention. Phrase it as a fear that the prototype would be destroyed, and you didn’t want to startle the public when nuts and bolts fell out instead of blood. Make it very clear that there’s ways to distinguish robots from people, magnets, for example, and throw in other talk of safety features. Also, it wouldn’t hurt to have footage of Penny destroying a swarm of Grimm to sell the deal.”

Ironwood considered his proposal for a moment. “There’s still the problem of having unauthorized military hardware in Vale. Even if we come clean, there will still be political repercussions.”

“Ask Jacques for help from his lawyers. They know how to find legal loopholes, and Vale’s code of law is designed to have more loopholes than the Gordian knot.”

Ironwood’s face curled in disgust. “I’d rather not owe him any favors.”

“I’ll have a word with him. I’m sure I could get him to help out of the kindness of his heart.”

An eyebrow rose on the General’s face. “I don’t think he has a heart. He keeps himself alive through greed and spite.” With a sigh, he said, “I’ll leave that to you, then.”

“Now for Penny herself? I presume you can explain some details about how she was made, or more to the point, how other people can’t make knockoffs.”

Ironwood smirked and fished around in a jacket pocket. A shimmering green sliver sparkled in his palm as he held it out for Cardin to see.

“What is this?” Cardin asked, holding it up in the light.

“A newly discovered type of Dust. We’ve decided to call it Life Dust.”

“And this stuff is what lets Penny use Aura?”

“It’s what gave her a soul.”

Cardin sat up straighter in his bed. “What do you mean by that?”

“A machine does exactly what you program it to. You design the code, it receives an input, and it gives you an output based on whatever algorithm you used. The designer has complete control over the results. However, our experiments with Penny indicate that her code is… inflexible. Any attempts to override its programming are resisted by the Aura residing in it.”

“So, what, you made a robot you have no control over? You might want to phrase that more carefully.”

Ironwood nodded. “Once the initial program is set, it cannot be altered directly. Rather, the code changes gradually, over time, as Penny interacts with the world. She forms friendships, learns new ideas, and finds her own preferences. She grows, just like any other human.”

“Which means she could learn to be evil,” Cardin pointed out.

“Just like any other human,” Ironwood said with a shrug.

“A ‘human’ that has superhuman strength, can survive conditions that would kill people, and can be mass-produced at your local Atlesian factory. Not to mention, if anyone else gets their hands on this Life Dust of yours, nothing’s stopping them from making their own versions of Penny.”

Ironwood smirked. “It’s rather difficult finding a type of Dust that doesn’t exist.”

“And I thought you were an idiot. So, what, that’s just some shiny rock?”

“No, it’s real. You could use this to make a synthetic human, if you had enough.” He took the crystal and put it away. “Takes a lot more than that, by the way. Anyways, this Dust was made artificially, using a one-of-a-kind device.”

“So, we’re back to square one. What’s stopping someone from getting their hands on this?”

The General’s face hardened. “I’m afraid I’m not at liberty to say. Be content that the protections around it exceed what Atlas technology is currently capable of.”

His explanation reeked of further secrets, but Cardin decided not to dig any deeper. “Sounds like we have a plan then.”

Ironwood nodded. “Grimm activity has spiked lately. Showing Penny deal with them would help our reputation and allay public fears.” He smiled and gently patted Cardin on the shoulder. “If you ever want out of this madhouse for a country, there’s a spot in my military for you. I’m sure I could get you promoted to Colonel before you’re twenty.”

Cardin smiled and shook his head. “If it were that simple, I would’ve enlisted years ago.”

“What do you mean?” Ironwood asked. “Winter left home just fine.”

“The position of CEO isn’t usually hereditary, nor is it possible to take over the company through a convoluted string of inheritance laws. Vale is relatively safe because all Dukes agree that having assassins butcher whole family trees would be bad for everybody. There’s all kinds of safeguards that make it difficult to assassinate someone here, from covert security screens to severe legal consequences, not to mention a Duke’s mansion might as well be a fortress for all the security measures in place. The moment you leave the country, however, all bets are off. Foreign assassins are much harder to trace back to their source, and international travel laws prevent you from taking a full security detail everywhere you go. On foreign soil, you’d either have to travel anonymously or get protection from a local nobleman.”

“Couldn’t you abdicate your title, like Winter?”

“I’d be dead within a month. My father would remarry, and he’d have assassins after me the moment his new wife was pregnant. Thing is, abdication only bumps you down in the succession line. A member of the direct bloodline is legally required to take the claim before any branches of the family. It might be an option if I had lots of siblings, but I’m an only child, and even if I left, I’d be expected to serve the Duke or be suspected of plotting for the title.”

“Let’s see if I understand this correctly,” Ironwood said, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Your entire government is built around a succession system that forces people to assume power or get killed off by contenders that want it. How has your country not fallen yet?”

“It ensures that only the most ruthless and politically savvy Dukes can assume power. There’s never been a weak ruler in all of Vale’s recent history.” With a shrug, Cardin added, “That’s what my dad says, anyways.”

“The sooner I get out of this country, the better,” Ironwood grumbled. He stood and went towards the door. “I’ll have you escorted back to Beacon when Penny arrives.”

“Any press conferences?” Cardin could feel his heart racing. Just five minutes in front of a camera, and he could make Cinder and her allies hemorrhage clout and money.

“Oddly enough, no.” Ironwood rubbed at the stubble on his chin. “Some producers have sent their well wishes and wanted you to know that they’ll hold off on the media blitz so you can recover. Honestly, I’m surprised there’s decent people in that line of work.”

Cardin resisted the urge to slap his forehead. “Cinder doesn’t want me on the news.”

“Oh. That makes more sense.”

The doctor kicked Ironwood out again, leaving Cardin to reflect on what Cinder might have planned. He could only imagine the public outrage at Yang’s sudden attack after the match. Throw in some Atlesian military hardware posing as an academy student, and the whole country would be ready to boil over.

Questions circled around his head. Every so often, his mind would wander back to Ironwood’s secrets, but he forced himself to focus on Cinder and her allied Dukes. What had she promised them to make them risk a Grimm horde at Vale’s doorstep? What was her ultimate plan? Inciting distrust of Atlas, and perhaps Huntsmen in general, seemed part of it, but what could she gain? Dust prices would skyrocket if Vale cut ties with Atlas, maybe Torchwick had been used to horde Dust for the inevitable shortage? Then why have him at Mount Glenn? And there was still the matter of the goons sent to the Grimmlands.

He knew he was missing a piece of the puzzle. No matter how many times he reviewed everything he knew, he couldn’t make sense of Cinder’s actions. She was destabilizing Vale and cutting its ties with Atlas, perhaps priming a takeover from Mistral? Why would the Dukes agree to that? Was she tricking them somehow, and if so, what could she promise them that would make them ignore the risks?

After long hours of debate and reflection, Cardin concluded that whatever Cinder’s plan was, the Dukes were in the know and complicit, else she could never have united the greater houses. All it would take was one Duke finding out the real intention behind her plans to topple them. Aside from that conviction, he had no way to string together Mount Glenn and the Grimmlands to the political tension Cinder was creating.

As the afternoon wore on, Jaune came in for a therapy session. He had the half-shut eyes of a sleepwalker, and every twitch of muscle seemed a Herculean effort for him. Grease matted his hair, and his clothes had sweat stains along the neck and armpits.

“You look like shit. Are they working you that hard?”

Jaune blinked sleepily at him. “I get airsick,” he said in a thin, tired voice. “Haven’t been able to eat or sleep much.”

Once that was done, a doctor transferred Cardin to a wheelchair and helped Jaune out of the room. Penny came in once they left. She hesitated before placing her hands on his wheelchair.

“You expressed concern that I might have a contact-based Semblance,” Penny said, leaning over him so her eyes stared straight into his. “Does this mean you do not wish me to touch your wheelchair?”

Looking closer into her bright green eyes, Cardin could pick out the unnatural way her pupils dilated smoothly and evenly, like the shutters on a camera.

“It’s fine,” Cardin said. “I know the truth now anyways.”

Penny nodded. “Ironwood told me. He said he will tell everyone, soon.” Her voice, more subdued than the usual saccharine happiness that infused every word she said, piqued Cardin’s interest.

“You don’t seem happy about that.”

“My father warned me people would be afraid of me if they knew what I am.” Her grip tightened on the wheelchair hard enough to make the plastic grips groan. “I have seen people afraid of me, and I do not want that.”

“Do I seem afraid to you?”

She peered closer at him, nearly touching foreheads. Her eyes darted back and forth, like a scanner, analyzing every twitch of his face.

“You do not!” she said with a happy shout. “Ruby is the same way!”

“Wait, Ruby already knew?”

“Yep.” She swung her head up and pushed the wheelchair out the door. “She has known for a long time. I asked her not to tell anyone, and she did not because she is my friend.”

“How did she find out?”

As Penny pushed him to the Bullhead, Penny told him how Ruby bumped into her on the streets, then running into Atlas soldiers and running from them, Ruby nearly getting run over by the truck and Penny stopping it with her hands.

Cardin asked them to stop by the CCT first. Penny escorted him to a private room where he called up Jacques. It took a few calls to get a hold of his home phone, but after a lengthy conversation with a terse and distrusting butler, he finally had Jacques on the phone. His private study looked exactly like the one at his office, down to the stacks of papers on his desk, the Schnee silver paint on the walls, the positioning of the windows, and the carpet.

“Ah, Cardin, it’s wonderful to see you up and about.” His gaze flickered briefly to Penny, who stood behind him, before settling on Cardin. “I saw what happened on the news.”

“Cinder had an unexpected ace up her sleeve.”

Jacques eyes narrowed. “All the more reason to be grateful my daughter is coming home.”

“Weiss?”

“You didn’t know?”

He felt himself panicking and forced himself to breathe. He could sort Weiss out later, but now, he needed his lawyers.

“I was planning to steer her back to Atlas,” Cardin bluffed, “But I hadn’t expected her to change her mind so quickly. I presume what Yang did sped things along?”

“Her teammate? Yes, Weiss did mention her.” Jacques smiled. “When were you telling me about your plans?”

“When they worked. I didn’t want to promise you something I didn’t know if I could deliver.” He paused, pretending to consider something. “However, there might be a problem with that.”

“How so?”

“It has come to Ironwood’s attention that letting military hardware masquerade as a student might be bad for his public image.” He felt Penny flinch behind him. “He plans to reveal Penny’s identity before Cinder can use it to completely sink Atlas’ foreign relations.”

“Which means Cinder will try to strike after the announcement.”

Cardin nodded. “Ironwood will need lawyers experienced in working with Vale’s laws to find a loophole. As long as there’s legal justification for Penny’s presence, they can’t impose sanctions on Atlas.”

“Sanctions that might restrict travel to and from Atlas,” Jacques continued. He checked something on his Scroll before saying, “I’ll send them over in the morning. I’ll get my PR people on it as well.”

“Thank you, Mr. Schnee. Is there anything I can do for the moment?”

“Just one thing.” He folded his hands and smiled. “Stay safe. I wouldn’t want to lose a good business partner.”

The line cut out, leaving Cardin staring at a blank screen. He pushed himself way from the table and turned towards Penny.

“Let’s go to Beacon. I have to find out what happened there.”


	35. Regrouping

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I learned two things yesterday. One, there is nothing sadder than under-seasoned Cajun food. Two, handling raw liver gives me the heebie-jeebies. Just thinking about it right now is making my skin crawl. But hey, at least the Cajun dirty rice I made turned out pretty well, lack of seasoning and objectionable ingredients aside.
> 
> I haven’t had anyone offer to make art, so off to Patreon I go. Coming up with cover art ideas for this story has been tricky, but I’ve got a couple. Hopefully I’ll have something before this story is done.

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A small crowd gathered to greet him at the Bullhead docks. Headmaster Ozpin led the procession, flanked by his professors, while a throng of students cheered and waved from behind them. Cardin gave them his biggest smile and waved back as Penny pushed him down the Bullhead ramp. He hunted for any signs of news reporters, but he saw neither camera nor microphone in the crowd.

Ozpin shook hands with him and said, “Welcome back. I’m glad to see you are alright.”

“Eh, I’ve been better. What’s happening with the tournament?”

“The Council has decided to postpone the tournament until you have recovered. Of course, if you think your injuries are too severe, you may drop out of the tournament. No one here would blame you.”

The Headmaster’s expression said nothing, but his words had a hidden warning. Participate in the tournament, and it was likely that another attempt on his life would be made.

“No sense sitting in bed hoping I won’t get injured again,” Cardin said, pitching his voice so the students could hear. “I’m in.”

Ozpin nodded and turned to leave, making way for a wave of students rushing towards him. Penny swiftly stepped in front of Cardin and held her arms out, holding them back.

“Please give him space,” she said. “One at a time.”

He could hardly deal with the crowd student by student. He’d be there all day. Instead, he let the students slip past him in a stream, giving him handshakes, fistbumps, well-wishes, and high-fives.

His teammates led the pack. Russell went first, giving him a fistbump and asking him how the airline food tasted. Cardin told him he’d rather have had what Jaune threw up. Sky followed with a shaky handshake and fifty questions on what the airship was like and how severe his injuries were. Dove trailed last, giving him a nod and welcoming him back before leaving with his other teammates.

Most of the other students were from Vale, but he saw a fair number of transfer students in the mix. He watched the crowd, trying to spot one of Cinder’s pawns lurking among them, but the whole crowd had passed him by without seeing any of them.

Last of all the students was Ruby Rose. She lingered behind the others like a crimson shadow, watching with hesitant glances as the barrier of students dwindled between them. Once the two of them were alone, she slowly came up to him.

“Hey Cardin,” she said softly. “Are you doing alright?”

“I’m fine. How’s Yang?”

Ruby winced. “Not great. I – I’m sorry she hurt you. It was wrong of her to do that, and, and you didn’t deserve that, no matter what happened between the two of you.” She bowed low, her cloak flapping over her head. “I’m sorry.”

“Really Ruby, bowing? Do I look like a king to you?”

Blushing, Ruby straightened. “Well, you’re a Duke or something, right?”

Cardin waved it off. “What about Weiss? I heard she’s leaving.”

Ruby’s face fell. “She’s sick of putting up with us. Apparently, she had been considering it for a while, but what Yang did made up her mind.”

Cardin thought that over. Nothing in Weiss’ attitude towards her father even suggested she would be willing to return to Atlas. He needed to talk to her, but he had a different stop first.

“Where is Yang?”

“Oh, no, you don’t have to worry! They’re keeping her locked up in her room. She’s not going to come after you, and I don’t think she would anyways, even if she was allowed out of her room, but she’s not, so you’re doubly safe, so you don’t have to worry.”

Cardin cut off Ruby’s rambling with a level stare. As Ruby fidgeted under his gaze, Cardin said calmly, “I would like to talk to her.”

Ruby froze, like a deer caught in the middle of a busy intersection. “You, what?”

“She’s in your room, right?” Looking back at Penny, he said, “Let’s go.”

“Affirmative, Cardin. To Yang’s room we go.”

Ruby stared as the wheelchair went past her. Then she ran after them, shouting, “Wait! What do you want with her?”

“We’re just going to talk. No need to worry.”

Ruby held the door open while Penny rolled him into the dorm. A blonde-haired Huntsman stood outside Team RWBY’s door, arms folded over his chest, blue eyes staring blankly at the wall ahead. A sword hung from his belt, and he had a shield strapped to his back. Plate armor covered his chest and legs, and metal gauntlets covered his forearms. When Cardin approached him, the Huntsman glanced at him and gave a start.

“Cardin,” he said gruffly. “Yang is being confined to her room for the time being.”

“I know. I would like to speak with her.”

The man looked him over and frowned. “I’d hate for you to wind up in the hospital again after the trouble my son went through to put you back together.”

“Oh, you’re Jaune’s dad?” Ruby asked. She zipped around Cardin and looked up at the Huntsman, holding out a hand. “I’m Ruby, one of Jaune’s friends, and I’m the leader of Team RWBY, I know, it’s confusing, and, uh, I’m really sorry about all the trouble my sister caused, I should have kept her in line more, Weiss kept telling me that, and, uh…”

The Huntsman chuckled and shook Ruby’s hand. “It’s nice to meet you Ruby. You look just like your mom when she was your age.”

Ruby gazed in starry-eyed wonder at the Huntsman. “Wow, you knew my mom! What was she like? Did you go on any missions together?”

Cardin cleared his throat. Ruby blushed and cut off, retreating behind him.

“As touching as that was, can I talk to Yang now? I’ve got a busy schedule.”

The man hummed to himself and put a hand on the sword at his hip. “I suppose it’s fine, as long as I’m in there with you.”

“No need for that,” Cardin said. “You can stand outside the door.”

The Huntsman’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t think that’s safe.”

“I’m safer in that room than anywhere else in Beacon,” Cardin retorted. “Stay outside, please.”

Jaune’s father considered him for a moment and nodded. “Fine. But if I hear so much as a shout, I’m breaking down that door.”

The Huntsman stepped aside, and Penny brought him up to the door. Cardin said to her, “You wait outside as well.”

“My orders are to remain with you at all times.”

“It will be just for a minute.”

“But my orders–”

“I have to talk to her alone,” Cardin said. “She won’t know that I trust her otherwise.”

Penny processed his request for a moment. Then she nodded. “I will be right next to the door. I will not let any harm come to you.”

“Thanks.” He knocked on the door, firm and loud. A few seconds later, Yang’s flat and ragged “Come in” came from the other side. The Huntsman swiped his Scroll over the door’s lock, and it clicked open.

Cardin turned the wheels of his chair, pulling himself through the door. The creaking of his chair made Yang look up, and her eyes widened.

“What are you doing here?” she asked.

“Nice to see you too.” He pulled himself closer, and Yang drew further away on her bed. “I need to find out what happened.”

Her eyes fell. “No one believes me. They think I’m lying or crazy. Even Ruby.” She wiped her eyes with her blanket. “Ruby won’t talk to me.”

“You’re a terrible liar, and I’ve always thought you were crazy.” He tried to give her a kind, sincere smile, but he felt his face twisting away from it. “Try me.”

Yang looked down at him and took a deep breath. “One moment, I saw you holding out your hand, and when I blinked, you were attacking me. It was like the world lurched out of place, when it happened.”

Cardin thought back to the moment Yang suddenly appeared in front of him. “And then a bit later, it’s gone.”

“Yeah, exactly!” A sudden hopeful gleam came in her eye. “Did it happen to you too?”

“When I had you on the chain, there was a moment when I saw you about to hit me. I panicked and drew the chain back.”

“That was when you dropped me.” Yang shrunk in on herself as she pieced it together. “Someone rigged the fight.”

“They wanted you to win. That way, my Aura wouldn’t save me from a lethal blow.”

Yang looked as though she was about to be sick. “Whoever it was, they knew exactly what I’d do.”

“Just about anyone would’ve reacted as you did.”

“No,” Yang cut in, face stern. “Anyone sensible would’ve blocked the hit. I chose to hit you back instead. All of this,” she said gesturing at the locked room and at his wheelchair, “Is all my fault.”

“If not you, they would’ve found someone else,” Cardin said. “And if they couldn’t find someone else, they would’ve staged it with their own pawn.” He debated telling her more, but he couldn’t trust Ruby, Yang, or the Huntsman to stay quiet. “A certain someone’s trying to kill me one way or another. You were just convenient for them.”

“The Headmaster was right,” Yang said. “Ozpin thought it was a setup.”

“Which is probably why you’re still here,” Cardin said. “I’m betting you’d be in a prison right now if it weren’t for him.” He looked out the window, checking for anyone listening in. “Did he come speak with you?”

“No, my uncle did. He’s Ozpin’s best Huntsman, or he likes to say that. Hard to say if it’s the booze talking. Do you think Ozpin can help?”

Cardin shook his head. “Ozpin will be lucky to stay Headmaster once this is all over. The Dukes have been out for his blood ever since he pushed for providing Menagerie with financial aid, and Ozpin’s influence is weaker than ever.”

Yang’s head sank. “So, what? What do we do?”

“All I can do for now is gather evidence. Telling me what you did is a start for that.”

“You have an idea who it is?”

Emerald’s pained expression as she nursed a headache the moment he was taken away on the stretcher stuck out in his mind.

“I have a lead,” Cardin said, “But it’ll be tricky proving anything. I wish I could do more.”

Yang’s expression soured, and she crossed her arms. “Be honest, you don’t care what happens to me, do you?”

Cardin shrugged. “Not really. I’d rather that you were free so you could help me catch the person that set you up, but it wouldn’t set me too far back if you were sent to jail.”

“You’re an asshole, you know that?”

He knew there was no convincing her otherwise. He spent too many years using her as a lightning rod for the teachers’ ire, tormented too many students in front of her, ensnared her in too many of his plots.

“Of course I am. A nice person, in my shoes, would be dead a hundred times over by now.” He glanced at the door, but he kept going. “Because I’m such an asshole, I used Weiss to wring favors out of her father. I was spying on her, and in return, Jacques Schnee sent me some Gravity Dust through General Ironwood. Because he set up that meeting, I got to speak with Ironwood and discuss concerns regarding the individual out to kill me.” He leaned as far forward as his chair let him. “That conversation is the reason Ironwood stepped in and had me treated aboard his flagship, instead of letting me get taken to Vale General, where I would have undoubtedly died due to my injures.”

Yang went silent, and she didn’t meet his eyes as he wheeled himself towards the door. It opened at the first knock.

“That was a very interesting conversation,” Penny said as she whisked him out the door before she closed it.

“You probably shouldn’t tell people you’re eavesdropping on them.”

“Oh! That was not eavesdropping. That would be impolite. I was listening in on your conversation to make sure she would not try to kill you again.”

“I think that’s still eavesdropping,” Ruby muttered.

“It is eavesdropping if the people being listened to do not know you are there. Cardin knew I was listening. Right Cardin?”

“Sounds about right.”

The Huntsman looked back at the closed door. “Someone planned that whole thing?”

Cardin held a finger over his lips. “Best not to say anything. There’s no telling what might happen if rumors got out of hand. If I’m going to clear her name, it must be with decisive evidence, when they won’t see it coming.”

With a sigh, the Huntsman pinched the bridge of his nose and said, “What a mess. Just do me a favor and keep Jaune out of it, alright?”

“He might already be involved. He saved my life, after all.”

His hand tightened around the hilt of his sword. “If that’s so, let me know what I can do to help you. The name’s Nicholas, by the way.”

Cardin held out his hand. “Cardin Winchester. I’ll be in touch if I need you.”

At a signal from Cardin, Penny wheeled him down the dorm hall. “Where to next?” she asked.

“My room. I have some investigating to do.”

Ruby trailed after them. “Uh, do you want me to leave?”

Cardin looked back at her. Her eyes kept darting away from his, but as she saw him watching her, she returned his stare. “If it helps Yang, then I want to help,” she added.

“No promises,” Cardin said, “But I will try to expose the one behind this.”

As they approached the stairs, the door to Jaune’s room opened. Blake stalked out, eyes blazing, ears flattened against her head beneath the bow. She nimbly darted around Penny and Ruby, stopping in front of Cardin’s wheelchair.

“I finally found out why you had me dating Jaune,” she snarled. “I can’t believe you had me do that to Pyrrha.”

Cardin glanced back at Ruby. She seemed to shrink into her boots, watching the scene unfold with wide eyes.

“So what?” Cardin asked. “That’s done and over with. You can do whatever you want, tell Jaune the truth, or keep leaving him in the dark.”

Blake slammed her hand against the wall. “That’s not the point!”

“Then what is? What do you want me to do? Break the two of you apart and push him towards Pyrrha?”

“I want you to leave. If you don’t leave Beacon, I’ll tell everyone what you did to get Pyrrha to drop out of the Vytal Festival.”

“Go ahead. I don’t care.”

Blake’s eyes narrowed. “Nice try, but I’m not falling for that.”

“No really. It’d go a lot worse for you than for me. Considering you’re one of Yang’s teammates, it’ll seem like you’re standing up for her. Besides, do you even have any evidence?”

The hallway grew disturbingly quiet as Blake ground her teeth. “It’s not right,” she said. “You hurt everyone around you, you lied and cheated your way through school and the Festival, and now, Yang’s going to jail because of you.”

“Oh, that’s rich!” Cardin said with a forced laugh. “What, I’m the bad guy because Yang shot me in the stomach and got in trouble for it?”

“You did something,” Blake said. “I don’t know what, but she saw something different. You were behind it, weren’t you? You lost, but you had a backup plan. You made her punch you so you could advance to the next round, didn’t you?”

“Yang wasn’t the only one seeing things!” Ruby said. “Cardin saw something that made him drop Yang! Someone else was after them both!”

“Lies!” Blake shouted. “He’s just trying to make you think he’s innocent! He tricked me into thinking he was just messing with me when he was really putting Pyrrha through hell! This whole time, he’s been trying to win the Vytal Festival, and now, he’s closer than ever!”

Cardin swallowed and kept his face calm. Both Ruby and the Huntsman were looking at him with growing skepticism. While others might not buy her wild claims, his new allies might desert him if they thought he was lying. He waved Penny over to him.

“Help me up,” he said.

“Doctor Tann said you are not supposed to be out of that until your session with Jaune this evening,” Penny said.

“I need to show Blake something. It won’t be long.”

Penny nodded and put her arm under his shoulder. As Cardin grunted and rose out of his chair, Ruby rushed over and took his other shoulder. She had to reach up to keep him upright, but the extra support eased some of the sudden tension from his chest muscles. Everything in his chest felt tight, as though he had metal bands squeezing his ribs. His breaths came in short gasps, and his head swam from the sudden rush of blood away from his brain.

With a trembling hand, he lifted his shirt. Blake glanced furtively at the lumps of scarred flesh across his stomach with a squeamish curl of her mouth.

“You’re right about one thing,” he said, his voice strained and weak. “I’m willing to do just about anything to win. The only thing I’m not willing to do is die for it.” His legs gave out from under him, and he slipped back into the chair. Penny’s firm grip kept him from crashing down, but Ruby yelped and ducked out from under him.

“You knew Jaune would save you,” Blake said bitterly. “He already saved you once, in the forest, and again when Pyrrha broke your nose. And both times, you were gambling with your life.”

“That first time, I was counting on you to warn me.” Blake sheepishly looked away. “And for that second, a broken nose would hardly kill me. Not the first time someone cracked that implant.” It was Ruby’s turn to look down at her shoes, no doubt recalling a certain parent-teacher conference. “As for Jaune, he was out of Aura. He passed out right after they got me to a doctor. It was only because Ironwood stepped in that I’m alive at all.”

Blake wouldn’t meet his eyes, but the cold, bitter anger hadn’t left her voice. “Do you expect me to believe you?”

“Nope, and honestly, I don’t care. Believe it or not, I have powerful people trying to kill me, and it’ll take a miracle to stop them. I don’t have time to waste trying to convince you I’m innocent when you’ll never trust me.”

He waved his hand, and Penny pushed him onward. When he pointed towards the stairs, Penny lifted the entire chair and carried him like a stack of books. Once they were at his room, Cardin unlocked the door and rolled inside.

“You lucky dog,” Russell said with a grin. “Maybe I should get a wheelchair.”

Dove snorted. “You could be wrapped head to toe in bandages and girls still wouldn’t come anywhere near you.”

Sky and Russell chuckled at the joke. Ruby nervously joined in, but Penny just asked, “Is Russell a dog? I don’t see a tail or a second set of ears.”

Russell’s expression darkened, but before he could say anything, Ruby poked her head around the door and said, “It’s just a figure of speech, Penny.”

“Sky,” Cardin said, “There’s something I need you to do.”

Sky put his Scroll away and walked over, leaning down towards Cardin. “What is it?”

“I need you to gather side by side footage of Emerald Sustrai and two events as they happened.”

Sky drew in a breath. “That’ll be tough, considering how packed the stadium was. The cameras have blind spots.”

“Not the security cameras, but that shouldn’t be a problem anyways. Emerald had front-row seats on the north side, and there were empty seats around her. Clip them with the moment I let the chain go and when Yang punched me.”

“You think she did something,” Russell said grimly.

“Make sure you keep this to yourselves,” Cardin said. “Things might get ugly if rumors spread.” He turned to Ruby and asked, “Can you think of any other weird moments in the Festival? You know, someone whiffing an attack for no reason, or dodging something that isn’t there?”

Ruby swayed back and forth on her feet. “Well, there was that one guy in the doubles that completely missed Yang.”

“Right when she was about to lose, right?” Cardin asked.

Ruby nodded nervously.

“I’ll look into that one too,” Sky said. “How about I pull out all her other matches as well?”

“If you have time. Start with the other three.”

Sky pulled out his Scroll and said, “On it.” He expanded the screen and started typing with both hands, digging into the Vytal Festival recordings in the school’s records.

Penny wheeled him out of the room. Blake was with them, lurking in the shadows of the hallways.

“Are you going to follow me everywhere?” Cardin asked.

“Someone has to keep an eye on you. So, you plan on pinning the whole thing on Emerald?”

Cardin gestured towards the roof, and Penny took him up there. Blake scowled at the familiar scenery of the dorm’s rooftop, while Ruby looked out in wonder over Beacon’s campus.

“Wow, I can see everything up here! Hey, there’s Nora! Hi Nora! Who’s that girl she’s with? She looks familiar.”

Cardin looked where she was pointing. No amount of makeup and eye liner could disguise Ren’s apathetic, deadpan expression. His hand reached for his Scroll, ready for a few pictures, but he doubted Ren would care. Instead, he brought up Weiss’ contact and dialed it.

“Hello Cardin.” Weiss didn’t sound happy to hear from him, more bored than anything else. The disinterest in her voice put Cardin on edge.

“Hello Weiss. I heard you’re leaving for Atlas.”

“Yes, I am. I should have never left.”

“Then why did you?”

“I was being childish,” Weiss scoffed. “I didn’t want to accept the responsibility that came with being the heiress to a large company. I see now that Atlas is my place.”

“How about we grab some lunch before you go? I could get us a couple seats at that ramen place.”

Weiss’ response was quick and blunt. “I appreciate the offer, but I am too busy at the moment. Not to mention, I’d rather not be out in public during a media frenzy around one of my former teammates. It might ruin my public image.”

“Since when did you care about your image?” Cardin asked, pushing as hard as he dared. “You’re just going to run back to Atlas with your tail between your legs because of a little trouble with your teammates?”

Weiss’ voice grew cold enough to freeze blood. “Who said I’m running? I’m hardly obligated to put up with those irresponsible dolts, and I have responsibilities back in Atlas. I’m not running, I’ve stopped running.” After a short pause, she said, “Get well, Cardin, and goodbye.”

Cardin was left listening to silence. He set the Scroll down.

“Good riddance,” Blake said. “She’s been unbearable since she was proven right.”

Ruby looked ready to cry. Penny, noticing this, wrapped her arms around her and asked where she was hurting.

“Why won’t she just give me a chance?” Ruby asked. “Why is she leaving?”

The Scroll sprang to life in his hands. An unknown number was calling him. Cardin answered and brought the device to his ear.

“Hello?”

“Is this Cardin?” a familiar voice asked. “I just heard your call with Weiss.”

The day before his match with Yang felt an eternity ago, but after a moment, he dredged up the name tied to the voice.

“Klein. How is everything?”

“I don’t know,” the butler said in a worried voice. “Weiss is behaving oddly, and I don’t think it’s because of this mess in the news.”

“I agree. Something is wrong.”

Klein gave a relieved sigh and asked, “Do you have some idea what that might be?”

“Nope, but I’ll try to find out. Call me if there’s anything I can do.”

“Thank you, Cardin. Call me if you require my assistance with anything. Now if you’ll excuse me, I must get back to Weiss before she misses me. Good luck.”

Ruby dabbed her eyes with her cloak and sniffled. “What was that about Weiss?”

“I don’t know,” Cardin said. “Something strange is happening, but I don’t have any ideas.”

“Where would you like to go now?” Penny asked.

“Back to my room. All we can do now is wait.”


	36. Check by Checkup

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Good news everyone! I’ve gotten in touch with an artist. Nothing’s finalized yet, but it looks like I’m getting some cover art. I also got my next two works commissioned ahead of time, from a different artist. I’m excited to see how they turn out.

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After Ironwood revealed Penny’s secret on the evening news, Cardin found another advantage to having the android escorting him. Every student they came across had a torrent of questions, and the robot’s lack of people-skills meant her responses sometimes caused unintended panic or affront. All night and through the next morning, Cardin found himself doing damage control and deflecting crowds of curious people. Without a chance to duck into the dining hall and grab breakfast, he shut himself and Penny in his room with Sky, reviewing what he had put together and avoiding more incidents.

“I’m not sure it’s much, but there is a pattern,” Sky said as he played the first video side by side. Moments before the Atlesian musician fired off-mark, Emerald squinted at him. That same expression was on her face when Cardin and Yang had experienced hallucinations.

“There have to be limitations,” Cardin said. “I’m betting she needs direct eye contact.”

“That, and there’s the headaches,” Sky added. “Two might be her limit, but without more examples, it’s only guesswork.”

Together, they watched Emerald’s matches. Without hearing from the team Cinder had beaten in the first round, they had no way of knowing for sure if any illusions were used, but Cardin doubted that. Emerald and Mercury had practically beaten the four of them by themselves, with Cinder lazily firing arrows from a distance and Nelly pouncing on anyone that had fallen, dispatching them with a foot to the face.

Cardin wasn’t sure he’d find anything in his match against her, but close to the end, when he had grappled and headbutted her. He distinctly remembered flames leaping up at him, but the nearest craters had all been silent.

“There,” Cardin said, pointing at Emerald’s squinting face. “I saw fire rising up a moment later.”

“And she’s got a headache,” Sky noted as the video continued, “But that could be from the headbutts.”

“Seems like two’s her limit,” Cardin said. “But we should stay in larger groups until we know for sure.”

With nothing else to do, Cardin spent the rest of the afternoon with Ruby. Blake had tagged along, insisting that he needed to be watched, and Russell claimed that he couldn’t hog both Penny and Ruby for himself. They had just finished lunch, Cardin having eaten enough to make up for the last nine missed meals, when he got a call from Vale Central, insisting that he come in for a check-up. Cardin told him in the politest voice he could muster that he was done with hospitals for the moment, and if they were that concerned, the doctors aboard the Defender would be happy to share their records.

He knew it wouldn’t be enough to deter Cinder’s allies. An hour later, an email came directly from the Committee of Commerce that he would be required to get approval from Vale General before he could participate in the Vytal Festival. If he failed to comply within twenty-four hours, he would be required to forfeit. He replied to the notice by asking if he could take the checkup at Beacon’s health office, and he got an immediate negative answer.

“You said they would’ve let you die before, right?” Ruby asked when he shared the news.

“He is not dying now,” Penny observed.

“No, but they’ll probably make up something wrong with me that the Atlas doctors missed. They’ll start surgery, and an hour later, I’ll die due to complications or something.”

“Then you’ll have to drop out of the Festival,” Ruby said hesitantly. “It’s not like you can stop them from doing something to you, right?”

Cardin shook his head. “That’s what they want me to do, I expect. It’s not impossible for them to kill me, but there’s a far greater risk that the truth will get out to the public. More likely, it’s a ploy to scare me into dropping out.”

“But if you do go, they’ll try something, won’t they?” Russell asked.

“Which is why I’ve got some calls to make.”

He started with his father. Glancing at Blake, he indicated that he was with others that might not be trustworthy. His father returned the greeting without any of the standard codewords.

“I have to get a checkup at Vale General before I can compete. I was hoping that Gideon would be available to escort me there.”

“Gideon is running other errands,” his father replied. “A checkup sounds like a good idea. From what I understand, the doctors aboard the Defender are more accustomed to dealing with sprained ankles than life-threatening injuries.”

“It just seems like a waste of time.”

“You can never be too careful when it comes to your health, son.” There was a short pause at the other end. Cardin pressed his ear close to the speaker, but he couldn’t hear any background noise. “I’m afraid I have to go. If you want someone to go with you, I’m sure your teammates, along with any friends you might have made at Beacon, would be happy to.”

Cardin stared at his Scroll, wondering who else to try. Ironwood might be willing to lend a few soldiers or even Winter, and Junior had plenty of thugs lounging around his club, but using either might tip his hand. With no other options, he rounded up his teammates, Ruby, and Penny in his room. Blake, still tagging along, lingered at the door.

“I don’t think they’ll try anything, but if they do, I’ll need your help getting out of there. I think they plan to have Emerald trick you into thinking I’m leaving. From what we’ve seen, Emerald can’t trick all of you. We’ll have our Scrolls recording everything, and if something happens, give what you have to Ironwood.”

Russell’s mouth curled. “They have to be expecting that.”

“I doubt they know I’ve figured out Emerald’s Semblance. Bringing numbers might force them to call off any plans they have.”

“You’re throwing around a lot of ‘might’ and ‘I think,” Dove said.

“If any of you have a better plan, I’m all ears.”

Sky looked thoughtful, but he shook his head. “There’s too much we don’t know here.”

After scheduling an appointment, Cardin and his escort of five took the Bullhead straight to the airdocks at Vale General. The doctor that had led the surgery on his nose greeted Cardin the moment he stepped off the Bullhead.

“I would say it is a pleasure to see you again,” the doctor said, “But that would imply I take pleasure in seeing you in need of medical treatment. Instead, allow me to say I am glad to see you looking well.”

“If I am looking well,” Cardin said, “Then there shouldn’t be any problems, right?”

The doctor smiled, flashing a perfect set of teeth at him. “Of course! I don’t expect to find anything at all, but when it comes to one’s health, we can’t be too careful, can we?” He looked past Cardin at the other students coming off the Bullhead. “Will your friends be joining us?”

“They will be,” Cardin said firmly. “That won’t be a problem, will it?”

“Not at all, not at all. Right this way, if you would.”

Cardin felt uneasy at the doctor’s confidence, but he waved his companions onward. The doctor led them through the lobby, down a series of wide hallways, and into a well-furnished waiting area.

“If you don’t mind waiting here,” he told Russell and the others, “I’ll take Cardin into the examination room right over there.” He pointed to a closed door within sight of the tables and chairs. “Help yourself to some refreshments while you wait. The examination may take a while, we need to take some x-rays.”

“Can’t we stay with Cardin?” Russell asked. “I’d rather not leave my teammate alone.”

“I’m afraid I can’t allow that. It’s against the hospital’s rules for any guests to remain in the room while a doctor is working, both for the sake of the patient’s privacy and the doctor’s concentration. Not to mention, I can’t keep an eye on you, and we can’t risk having someone tampering with our equipment.”

Russell started another protest, but Cardin cut him off. “It’ll be fine. If I need anything, I’ll shout.”

Penny looked at the door. “I will be listening closely, and I shall remain right here until you come out.” Putting truth to her words, Penny turned towards the examination room and planted her feet on the floor.

Dove stretched his arms. “Well, if that’s the plan, might as well see what they got.” He went over to the kitchenette and dug through the fridge. Blake and Ruby were right behind him.

“Ready to go?” The doctor asked Cardin.

Cardin looked back at his group one last time before nodding and entering the room.

***

“You know, you can sit down,” Ruby said as she walked around Penny with an armload of cookie packs.

“Nope. I said I would stay right here, so right here I will stay.”

“Well, then I’ll stay right next to you.” Ruby stamped her feet and stood at Penny’s side, cracking open a pack of cookies with her teeth. “Nobody’s getting past us!”

“Seriously?” Dove asked as he passed them with a bag of chips and a can of cola. “You’re just going to stand there for a few hours?”

“Affirmative,” Penny said.

“Affirmative for me too!”

Dove rolled his eyes. “The robot I can understand, but there’s chairs right over there Ruby. Might as well relax while we wait.”

“Nope.”

Dove shrugged and sat at one of the tables. Sky and Russell joined him, each bringing their own snacks. Blake watched them from a corner, and after a moment, she pulled up a chair at the other table.

“Why do you listen to him?” Blake asked Cardin’s teammates. “He lies, cheats, and uses people to get what he wants. Don’t you hate him?”

Dove and Russell ignored her, but Sky said, “He’s our leader.”

“So? I had a leader once, someone who I thought was kind and caring, who only did bad things because it was necessary.” Blake’s ears drooped, and a bitter tone crept into her voice. “I learned too late that he was nothing more than a tyrant. So, I left. Ever since that day, I’ve felt so much better about myself. You could do the same, if you wanted to.”

Russell snorted. “You’re gonna have to do better than that, kitty-cat. Throw some lien on the table, or maybe tell us we might not live to regret staying with Cardin.”

“Wait, what?”

With a roll of his eyes, Russell asked, “Come on, you think this is our first time? I’ve had bags of lien cards waved in front of my face before, and it hasn’t worked yet.”

“Yeah, it’s been a while, but people tried to bribe us,” Sky said. “Cardin’s father had the last couple people that tried it fired or thrown in prison.”

Blake stood, staring down at the three of them, and slapped her hands on the table. “I’m not trying to bribe you, I’m trying to help you make your own decisions. If he’s anything like Adam was, you’ll be better off leaving him.”

She gave a start at the slip-up and looked away.

“I’m fine right where I am, thank you very much,” Russell said. “You can tell whoever you work for it’s not gonna happen.”

“What? But I don’t work for anyone!”

“Maybe you really mean it,” Sky said. “If that’s true, you better drop it before Cardin hears. It wouldn’t end well for you.”

“You won’t be able to do anything if you keep thinking like that,” Blake snapped. “He’s got you on a leash, don’t you see? All you have to do is get away from him, and you’ll be free.”

“You don’t get it, do you?” Dove asked. “Yeah, we’re on a leash. Cardin’s dad makes sure we have good reason not to bail.” Russell and Sky sent him sharp looks, but he retorted, “What? It’s not like he doesn’t know. You’ve all seen how he looks at us.”

“He’s threatening you, isn’t he?”

“Yep.” Dove shoved another mouthful of chips in his mouth. “A week after I started hanging around Cardin back in school, my dad got a big promotion, became manager of some government office or something. He thought he had finally gotten noticed, but I had a letter slipped in my backpack. Never saw who did it, might’ve been Cardin for all I know. It told me exactly what his father had done, what he wanted me to do for him, and what he would do to my dad if I ever put a toe out of line.”

Blake crossed her arms and glared at him. “What, he wanted you to do whatever Cardin asked?”

“He wanted me to spy on Cardin and tell him everything Cardin did.”

“Same,” Russell chimed in. “Not much point in me denying it, since Cardin caught me texting his dad and told him. Now I’m more a mouthpiece of his old man than anything else.”

“But why would he spy on his own son?”

“To make sure he doesn’t try to assassinate him or do anything stupid.” Dove crumpled the empty bag of chips and tossed it at a garbage can. It flew open and fluttered to a stop well short of the target. “And also to watch over him, like this, make sure no one else tries something.”

“Are you sure we should be saying all this?” Sky asked.

Dove snapped open his can of soda. Foam gushed out the top, and Dove rushed to sip it all before it spilled over his hand. “Not like it’s any secret,” he said once the can stopped foaming. “Cardin doesn’t trust us. The only reason he pretends we aren’t spying on him is that we’d just get replaced if he exposed us, and I’d rather not have my dad charged with treason because Cardin caught wind of Blake trying to get us to stab him in the back.”

“I wasn’t–”

“My mom has cancer,” Russell said quietly. “The treatment’s way too expensive for us, and the insurance company bailed. She’d be dead by now if it wasn’t for Cardin’s dad.”

Sky glanced at the treatment room door. “My sister got into Vale University because of his dad’s connections. She’s hoping to be a physicist some day.”

Blake sat down and drummed her fingers on the table. “You’re just going to turn a blind eye to all the horrible things he does?”

“Don’t get me wrong,” Dove said. “I don’t like Cardin. You can never tell if he’s telling the truth, he’s paranoid and manipulative, and he makes me feel like a tool, something useful for his plans. I don’t ignore his problems. I live with them.”

Sky shrugged. “I don’t mind all that. It’s not like he’s bad to us, and it can even be fun sometimes to help him out. He quailed under Blake’s glare. “Not like that. I mean, there’s so much depth to his plans that it’s interesting to watch them unfold.”

“Eh, guess I’m the only asshole here then.” Russell grinned. “It’s fun helping him screw over other people.”

“You’re just going to let him rule your lives like this?” Blake asked, hesitation creeping into her voice. “You know he’s just using you, so why do you stay with him?”

“Because that’s the choice we made.” Dove crushed the can and tossed it. This time, it landed in the garbage can. “Can you just let it go now? You’re getting on my nerves.”

“But–”

“They asked you to stop, Blake,” Ruby said. She hadn’t moved from next to Penny, but she had twisted around to face her teammate. A pile of empty cookie wrappers lay around her feet in a neat pile. “Maybe Cardin’s done some bad things in the past.” At Blake’s scowl, she amended, “Okay, maybe a lot of bad things.” She looked at Cardin’s teammates, but none of them offered any objections. “But he asked us for help. He trusted us enough to have us watch his back when there could be anything waiting for him on the other side of that door. And if it helps Yang, if it proves she was tricked into hurting him, then I’ll do what he asks.” She drew her cloak up to her chest and took a deep breath. “I won’t ask you to do this for Cardin or for me, but could you do it for Yang?”

Blake grumbled under her breath. “I was just trying to help.”

“And we don’t want it,” Russell said, “So lay off.”

Blake turned her chair away. Ruby looked back at all of them, searching for a way to fill the awkward silence. “So, Russell, your mom has cancer?”

“Yeah, breast cancer. It got into her lymph nodes, and the doctors think it’ll turn up in other places. Once that happens, she’s pretty much done.”

“Oh. Well, I hope she gets better for you. I know how much it sucks losing your mom.”

The waiting room fell silent at that. Fidgeting under the awkward silence, Sky asked, “What happened?”

“My mom was a Huntress. She went out on a mission, and she didn’t come back.” Ruby looked down at the cloak around her neck. “No one would tell me what happened, just that she was gone. I don’t know what would’ve happened if it wasn’t for Yang.”

Ruby looked at them as if waiting for them to ask about Yang. No one seated stirred, but Penny tapped her on the shoulder, and while still looking at the door, asked, “What did Yang do?”

That started a torrent of information on Ruby’s life. Dove and Russell tuned her out, taking another trip to the kitchen area. Sky listened politely for a few minutes, but as time wore on, his eyes glazed over and his head drooped. He eventually admitted defeat and pulled out his Scroll. Blake, having heard all this before, tightened her bow around her ears and watched Cardin’s teammates like a prowling panther. Penny kept watching the door, but her nodding and enthusiastic reactions to everything remotely interesting Ruby said kept the family history coming, Yang cooking dinner, Yang doing laundry, tucking her in bed and reading the story their mother used to read, Yang sending Ruby off to school, Yang kicking their dad off the couch and tossing the packs of beer out a window, Yang bringing home armloads of groceries and cutting Ruby’s hair. Tears rolled down Ruby’s cheeks as she went on.

After half an hour, the door crept open. Cardin slunk out of the room with a pile of papers in one hand. He looked around the waiting room and motioned for everyone to follow him.

Russell stood up and looked at Dove and Sky. Both of them nodded up at him. “Hey, what’s–”

Cardin held up a finger in front of his lips and went towards the hall. Everyone exchanged glances and followed him. They crept up to each corner, looked down the hallways, and continued when the halls were clear. After a few minutes of silent escape, Cardin brought them to the lobby door. He opened it a crack and waited, eye pressed to the open crack. Ruby opened her mouth, and Russell hushed her with a look.

Cardin sprang up, eased the door, open, and slipped into the lobby, pressing himself against the wall. The others quickly followed behind him, holding in their breaths as they slipped past the averted eyes of the two attendants in the lobby.

Once they were a measurable distance from the door, Cardin casually walked towards the vending machines in the corner. The others went up to him as he pretended to examine the candy bars and potato chips stacked in the machines.

Sky made to tap him on the shoulder, but Cardin sidestepped the touch, suddenly making for the door. Without a word, the others followed as he went up to one of the bullheads. With a nod from Cardin, a pilot guided them onto a Bulhead. The engines roared, and the Bullhead flew off towards Beacon.

“Hey, what was all that about?” Russell asked. He pointed at the papers still clutched in Cardin’s hand. “Is that what we came for?”

Cardin didn’t answer. He didn’t move, and he didn’t even blink. Russell reached for his knee, and the moment he touched him, the air fell apart into a shower of sparkling shards that dissipated the moment they hit the Bullhead’s floor.

Russell swore and tried to undo his belt. It wouldn’t come off, so he drew a dagger and cut it. He raced towards the Bullhead’s pilot cabin and knocked on the fiberglass door. “Hey! We have to turn around!”

The pilot ignored him. Russell pounded on the fiberglass separating the pilot and passenger compartments, to no avail.

Russell went to the emergency exit hatches, but no matter how hard he turned, the handle wouldn’t budge. Penny offered to help, yanking the seatbelt until it broke, and she snapped the handle clean off the door.

“Should I make a hole for us to jump out of?” Penny asked.

“We better not. The Bullhead would crash.” Sky took out his Scroll and called Cardin’s father, only to be met with the same response as earlier. Gideon is too busy. While Sky argued with the Duke of Winchester, Ruby and Penny brought out their own Scrolls. Ruby frantically explained the situation to her uncle while Penny gave a detailed series of events leading up to Cardin’s capture.”

“Okay, my Uncle said he’d be there in a minute,” Ruby said. “He can take care of it.”

“General Ironwood sent Winter and a squad of Specialists,” Penny added. “They will be on the scene within twenty minutes.”

“I don’t think he has that long.” Russell studied the controls on the other side of the glass. “Better hang on, I’ve never flown one of these before.”

Russell’s shadow broke away from his feet and slipped through a crack in the fiberglass barrier. It engulfed the control stick and pulled it hard to the left. The pilot jerked to attention and grabbed for the controls, but his hand went through Russell’s shadow.

The pilot’s image shattered as they flung open the fiberglass partition. In the pilot’s place stood Neo, wearing a white coat and bowler cap, twirling a parasol fashioned from Roman’s cane. She smiled as she sprang at them. She kicked Russell in the jaw, knocking him against the side of the Bullhead and breaking his concentration. The Bullhead spun wildly, teetering in the air as it slowly descended towards the city streets, lessening the sensation of weight in the cabin.

Sky wrenched at his seat belt, but it refused to come undone. A few well-placed swipes from Neo’s umbrella shattered his Aura and knocked him out cold. Dove grabbed Russell’s knife and slashed through his belt, but Neo swept the crook of her umbrella around the blade, twisting it out of his hands, before slamming the umbrella into his gut. He fell to the floor, gasping for air, and Neo crushed his throat underfoot.

Ruby danced around the Bullhead, leaving a shower of rose petals as she struck at Neo, but in the cramped confines of the Bullhead, she couldn’t dodge when Neo opened the umbrella. She bounced off the touch, springy material and crashed against the far wall. The umbrella tip opened, and a large Dust slug shot out of it and into Ruby’s chest. She fell to the floor, a smoking hole exposing scorched skin just below her throat.

When Neo struck at Blake, her umbrella swung through empty air. Blake leapt up, crouching against the ceiling before leaping at Neo. The blades of Gambol Shroud slid off the parasol’s fabric with a high-pitched hiss.

Penny punched at Neo from behind, but the young girl flipped over the attack, landed on the ceiling, and kicked Penny in the side of the head. Her foot connected with a solid clang and a flash of damaged Aura. Penny’s hand reached up with inhuman speed to grab Neo by the ankle, but it shattered like glass in her hand.

Neo reappeared low to the ground, lashing out at Penny’s ankle with the crook of the umbrella. She swept Penny’s ankle out from under her, but the robot remained upright on one leg while Neo tugged in vain on the other.

Blake slashed at Neo’s back. Dropping her umbrella, Neo sidestepped the blow and shoved Blake’s back. She tumbled forward, and her blades slashed Penny’s chest, sending golden sparks flying as the last of Penny’s Aura drained away. Two long, thin scratches ran across her chest.

Neo leapt on Blake’s back, grabbed the ceiling, and swung forward, slamming both heels into Penny’s head. Her head snapped back, and she collapsed against a seat.

As Blake scrambled to her feet, Neo kicked up her umbrella and twirled it, snapping the pointed tip back into place. Her umbrella was a black and pink blur, whistling through the air as she batted Blake’s swords aside and whittled away her Aura. Blake leapt around in the Bullhead, leaving behind afterimages in her wake, but Neo’s umbrella hounded her every move.

Blake grabbed for a handle on the ceiling, but it broke apart in her hands, disappearing as the shards drifted away from her fingers. As Blake flew helpless in the air, Neo drew up the tip of the umbrella. With a silent yell, Neo jabbed at Blake’s exposed throat.

The sharpened tip passed through the palm of Penny’s hand. Metal gave way with an earsplitting snap. Neo jerked the umbrella out, dragging with it some red wires.

“I will not allow you to hurt my friends,” Penny said, clenching her punctured hand.

Neo looked out the window. The buildings below them were a short distance below them and gradually growing closer. Neo darted forward, striking again at Blake. Penny punched right through her, scattering shards of glittering glass across the Bullhead. The real Neo sprinted into the pilot’s compartment, locked the fiberglass partition, and pulled the pilot’s emergency escape. Standing on the roof of the Bullhead as it drifted down, she fired a round into one of the engines. Her parasol snapped open, sweeping Neo away on a gust of wind, as the Bullhead lurched and spun out of control.

Penny pounded on the fiberglass, but it wouldn’t give. She turned back to the others and shouted, “We have to stop this Bullhead!”

Russell raised his head. His shadow grabbed the controls, holding the stick steady, but he could only slow the Bullhead’s wild rotation.

“I can’t land this thing!” Russell shouted. “We’re going to crash!”

Penny looked out the window. “Do any of you have a Semblance that could get me outside?”

Dove, still wheezing and massaging his throat, shook his head. Sky and Ruby were still unconscious, and Blake was slumped against a seat, too tired to move. Russell looked into the pilot’s compartment, at the open escape hatch.

“I have an idea,” he said, “But I haven’t tried this on a person.”

Penny held up her punctured hand. Twisted metal and tangled wires dangled from the opening. “I’m not a real person. Do it.”

“Okay, here goes.” Russell’s shadow flitted under Penny’s feet. The darkness ran up her legs, swallowing her up. Through the crack at the fiberglass’ edge and up the emergency exit, Russell’s shadow slid on the walls and emerged on the Bullhead’s outer shell. Penny fell out, twisting to get her legs up against the Bullhead before leaping off. She shattered the pavement when she hit the street.

From her backpack, eight blades floated out. The flat of each blade slammed against the underside of the Bullhead, pushing against it. Using the last Bullhead engine, Penny brought the Bullhead to a stable hover over the heads of gawking, terrified civilians.

“Excuse me, but is there a parking spot nearby” Penny asked the crowd, gesturing up at the smoking Bullhead. “I do not know how long I can hold this.”


	37. Grimm Operation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The commission for this story’s cover art is underway. I’m very much looking forward to receiving it. In the meantime, new chapter! 
> 
> I suppose a warning is in order for the next couple chapters. I don’t intend to change the rating, but I feel I’m pushing its boundaries. No explicit descriptions of any kind will be featured, but implied torture is coming up. If anyone feels it goes too far, please let me know so I can either adjust the rating accordingly or edit to keep it at a T.

\----------

Cardin kept himself still as the doctor pressed a stethoscope to his chest. He watched the doctor, studying every glance, every twitch of his face, where he walked, how he held himself, anything for any clues for what his role was in Cinder’s plan. The doctor brought him to an X-ray machine, scanning his chest, and examined the results while Cardin had his arm squeezed by a blood pressure monitor. Every minute crept by with adrenaline-laced slowness, as if he were a Schrodinger cat, stuffed in a box, waiting for the radioactive isotope to split in two and snuff out his existence with toxic gas. Dead or alive, he wouldn’t know until the exam room door opened again.

“I don’t hear any blood collected in your lungs, and your ribs have healed properly,” the doctor said. He had a folder of Atlas’ medical documents from the incident along with the Valean files from his previous trips. All told, the files were thick enough to tear the manila folder he kept them in at its seams. “Have you been feeling any unusual pains and aches?”

“Nope.” Cardin eyed the door, wondering if he could risk a peek. He crept up from the chair, but the doctor glanced up.

“On the scale, please. I’ll take your height and weight.”

A measuring rod stretched up as the doctor brought it level with the top of Cardin’s head. Weights set along a sliding scale forced the rod down until the doctor slid them to the left, bringing the weights down to Cardin’s weight.

“You lost a few pounds, but nothing serious,” the doctor said. “So far so good.”

The door stood a few feet away from him, almost close enough to reach for. “Can we take a quick break? I need to hit the bathroom.”

The doctor glanced at his watch. “We’re almost done. It’ll be just a few more minutes.”

Cardin almost grabbed for the door right then and there, but the doctor drew him away by the arm. He shone a light in Cardin’s eyes, studying the dilation of his pupils, and peered down his throat. He had Cardin raise and rotate his arms, flex his legs, twist his back, and stretch his neck, all the while taking notes on a sheet of paper.

“How has the new implant been doing?”

Cardin rubbed at the side of the nose, feeling the lump of plastic shift under his touch. “No complaints,” he told the doctor. “Feels good as new.”

“I’m glad to hear it. I had to go deep into your nasal cavity to get out all the bits of broken plastic from the last implant. This one’s designed to bend instead of break, so it shouldn’t shatter like the last one.” He smiled as he checked off a string of boxes on Cardin’s form. “That said, I wouldn’t advise taking another shield to the face.”

“I’ll keep it in mind,” Cardin said dryly. “Are we done yet?”

The doctor glanced at his watch again, trying and failing to hide the act behind Cardin’s files. “Just give me one more minute, I’m almost done with the paperwork.

Cardin shifted in his seat, poised to spring towards the door. The doctor signed his name in broad, languid strokes at the bottom of the form and passed it to Cardin. As he tried to explain the contents of the form, Cardin yanked the paper away and threw open the door.

His teammates were gone. At the table where they had been sat a middle-aged, tan-skinned man. His ebony hair was graying at the temples, a bushy mustache concealed thin, pale lips, and sharp, green eyes examined him like a pickled frog stretched out for a scalpel. He wore a black suit with a maroon vest and golden undershirt, his brown dress shoes were propped up on a second chair, and hands wrapped in velvet fingerless gloves were folded on his lap.

Cardin sprinted for the hallway, but four Atlesian Knights blocked his path. Cardin barreled into one, using his Semblance to make it light enough to knock over, but the others grabbed him by his shirt, and one cold-cocked him with his rifle. The paper in his hand fell to the ground as he went limp in the robots’ grip. He saw stars as the Knights dragged him back to the waiting room.

“Leaving so soon?” they mystery man asked. “I haven’t even introduced myself yet.”

“You’re one of Cinder’s lapdogs, aren’t you?”

The man raised an eyebrow. “One of hers? Hardly.” He stroked his mustache and said, “Think of me as an equal shareholder in a very profitable enterprise.”

“And what business is that?”

“You’ll find out soon enough.”

Cardin looked around the waiting room. All that remained of his escort were a pile of cookie wrappers on the floor, half-eaten snacks on another table, and an impression in the carpet where Penny had stood, no signs of a struggle anywhere.

“Where are they?” he asked.

“Your friends? Don’t worry about them, they should be back at Beacon by now.”

Four more Knights came from another hallway, surrounding Cardin. He felt for his mace, but that had been left back in his room. His hand crept into his pocket, typing on his Scroll, but before he could message Ironwood, a Knight yanked his arm up. The Scroll slipped from his fingers and clattered at the robot’s foot.

“Pick that up,” the man told the robots, “And get that paper over there as well. Be careful with both of them.”

One robot gingerly picked up the Scroll and turned it off, while another struggled to get its stubby fingers around the paper. After a few futile attempts, the Knight stood aside, looking down at the paper.

“Atlas tech,” the man sneered. “What an embarrassment.” He swung his feet off the chair, walked over, and folded the paper into his coat pocket. “Well, Cardin? Are you coming?”

The doctor had vanished, and there wasn’t a person in sight. With no weapon, no Scroll, and no one to help him, all he could do is buy time. “Didn’t you say you were going to introduce yourself?”

“In a bit. Let’s go somewhere a bit more private first.”

Two Knights dragged him along as the other six led the way out a fire exit. Though the door said an alarm would sound, the building remained silent. The door led out to a grassy park, fenced off with a plastic chain. A paved path ran in a circle inside the park, shaded by sturdy oaks and lush maples. Wooden seats were evenly distributed along the path, and in a bin next to each one were padded cushions.

Nestled in a copse of trees was a Bullhead, engines on, passenger door open. The Knights hauled him in. They tried to strap him into a seat, but they couldn’t get the buckle to line up. The stranger had to buckle him in himself, cursing again at the inadequacy of the Knights’ engineering.

The stranger tapped on the fiberglass partition. “Let’s get moving, I don’t have all day.”

A Grimm-masked figure with lupine ears sticking out scowled at him and pressed a few buttons. As the door slid shut, the Bullhead rose out of the branches and shot out over the city. Cardin watched through the window as the Bullhead took them south, to a run-down section of the city. Boarded-up windows and faded brick walls lined the street they flew over.

They landed in an old parking lot, overgrown with weeds in its cracked surface. Once they were all out, the stranger slapped the side of the Bullhead, and it took off, flying further south out of Vale. In front of them was a two-story brick building, cracked and worn like its neighbors. Four Knights went inside, while the other four took positions around the building, hidden from sight by strategically placed shrubbery and fences.

“I know it doesn’t look like much,” the man said as they walked up to a two-story brick building, “But I’ve spruced up the place a bit.”

At first glance, the interior appeared nothing more than its ramshackle shell suggested. Upon closer inspection, one could see that all the wooden beams holding up the second floor were new, the walls had been reinforced with additional struts, and the old wiring had been yanked out, replaced with fresh bundles of cord snaked around the new supports. The carpet that had once covered the floor had been removed, leaving behind bare concrete.

The stairs creaked under the weight of the Knights, but they held their weight. A pair of them secured the top floor, standing on either side of the door while the other two shoved Cardin up after them. The room was dimly lit by the ambient light of a window, leaving long shadows across most of the room. At the center of the light, near the far wall away from the window, sat a single chair, thickly padded and rigidly built, like one found at a dentist’s office. A metal cabinet stood in one corner, hidden in the deepest shadow of the room, given away only by the faintest glint of light off its solid steel surface. It had both a number pad and an eye scanner. The other corner had a birdcage resting on a short, squat table. The cage had bars thick enough to survive a pounding from Cardin’s mace and a door nearly as large as itself. On the inside, long, sharp spikes lined the bars.

“Welcome to my office,” the man said. “Please excuse the lack of furnishings, I only just arrived in town a few days ago. I haven’t exactly had time to go shopping.” From the darkness, he brought out a stool and sat down, watching as the Knights shoved him into the chair. They managed to fasten a strap around his chest, but the stranger had to secure Cardin’s arms, legs, and head himself.

“I should get a real assistant,” he said. “Maybe I can get the kid with the prosthetic legs. If nothing else, I could test new designs on him.”

Cardin tugged on the straps, taking care not to make too much noise. His arms shook from the strain, but the straps didn’t even budge. No matter what he tried, he couldn’t move anything but his fingers and toes, and those were firmly pressed against the chair. He looked out the window, but the view beyond it was blocked by leafy tree branches.

“You haven’t introduced yourself yet.”

“I suppose I haven’t.” The man bowed low, one hand against his chest. “I am Doctor Watts, but if you prefer, you can simply call me Watts. No need to be formal.”

“Well then, Watts, what are you planning to do with me? Considering you took the trouble of taking that paper, I’m guessing you want me alive.”

Watts gave him a slow clap. “Bravo. I knew you were smart. No, I’m not planning to kill you. Cinder and I have something far more fun in store for you.”

He strolled over to the cabinet in the corner and pressed an eye up to the scanner. A red light flickered out, scanning his iris, and the number pad glowed green. Watts positioned himself in front of the number pad, blocking the view as he inputted a ten-digit code. The cabinet beeped and its thick bolts slammed aside.

The doors swung open, a neat row of thick glass jars. Watts carefully grabbed one with both hands and carried it out while two Knights shut the door. The bolts slid back into place.

Watts blocked out the light, leaving the jar’s contents obscured by his shadow, but when he sat back down, he turned, exposing the jar to the window’s light. The white carapace of the Beetle-Grimm glinted in the sunlight, and its beady red eyes stared at him. Its spindly black legs scraped against the glass, reaching for him.

“Recognize this little guy?” Watts asked, holding up the jar. “That bumbling idiot Torchwick nearly blew everything. If he had delayed the attack like he was supposed to, Cinder would’ve gotten her hands on a lot more than these.” He shook the jar, knocking the beetle off balance. It wriggled on its back, legs flailing to find purchase on the glass around it. “Ah well, we’ll just have to make do.”

The light in the room dimmed. In front of the window, a crow had landed on the tree branch. It looked inside with beady black eyes, beak pressed against the glass.

“Well? Aren’t you going to ask what I’m planning to do with this Scarab?”

“I assume you’re going to tell me anyways.”

“Humor me, Cardin. I went through all this trouble to get you here. The least you could do is follow the script.”

He looked at the beetle – the Scarab – again “I’m guessing you’re going to have that thing drain my Aura.”

Watts’ eyebrow rose. “Not a bad guess, though I suppose Cinder did mention you’ve been on the business end of one of these before.”

He could feel the dark lines on his back burn from the memory of the Breach. His stomach roiled, and the beetle redoubled its efforts to right itself.

“What would you even want with my Aura?” Cardin asked. “My Semblance isn’t exactly powerful.”

“Hmm? Oh, no, I said yours wasn’t a bad guess. I didn’t say you were right.” He grinned and stroked the top of the jar, running a finger over the clasps holding the top in place. “The marks caused by their bite are too visible, so I had their teeth, or whatever it is, removed. No, what we have planned for you is even worse.”

A light tapping came from the window. The crow had its beak wedged under the windowsill, as if trying to open it. The window opened a crack, but it refused to budge further.

Cardin looked down at the chair, wondering if his Semblance could break it, and if he did, whether or not he would escape the Knights. “Then what are you planning?”

“See? There’s the line you’re supposed to say.” He glanced at the window, studying the crow for a moment, before returning his attention to Cardin. “But before I’ll tell you that, I have a little story for you first. Don’t give me that look, I think you’ll find it fascinating. It all started with Mount Glenn.”

Cardin tuned him out as he rambled on about the expansion project and its failure. Instead, he watched the crow, wondering at its attempts to slip inside. The window had raised another half-inch, showering the floor with flecks of paint and dust as it moved. He felt some irrational part of him leap for joy, finding salvation in the bird prying its way into the room, but the more cynical part of him dismissed it as a common animal, looking for shelter or dead rats in a run-down home.

“I can see I’m boring you,” Watts said in a condescending drawl, “But the history of the matter is crucial to understanding how these Scarabs came to be.”

Cardin’s attention turned back to Watts. “These Grimm were made?”

“In a sense, yes. After Mount Glenn was sealed, many perished, but some sought refuge in warehouses and bunkers, living off the provisions stored for sustaining the expansion. These people survived months, even years after the tunnels were sealed, locked inside their self-imposed prisons, living in perpetual fear of the Grimm that stalked the streets just outside their walls. They all went insane, after a time. Some opened the doors and threw themselves at the Grimm, others killed everyone else trapped with them before taking their own lives.”

“In this teeming pool of negativity, a common fear spread through the inhabitants of a large surviving group, that one of their own might be a Grimm in disguise. Whispers of a Grimm creeping in and stealing a body to let in the others swept through the community. They posted guards at the doors, killing anyone that went too close, and cut open anyone behaving oddly, searching for the supposed Grimm occupant. And soon,” Watts said, holding the jar before him, “Their fears became reality.”

Cardin looked at the Scarab, fear and disgust clawing at his insides. The Scarab chittered and slammed against the glass, making it jump in Watts’ hands.

“What, it kills you and uses the body?” Cardin thought back to the Breach, remembering the long trek down the tunnels. He remembered the decaying corpse, lumbering towards him with a rusted weapon, and the black motes that had drifted from its crushed skull. “It takes over the brain.”

“Very good,” Watts said. “To be specific, its method of entry into the body is through the only readily available hole in the skull, an eye socket. As the Scarab must dislodge an eye to enter that way, Aura would normally block its path. That’s why Scarabs first drain the victim’s Aura. As you’ve undoubtedly found, this leaves permanent markings on the skin, markings which Ozpin is already familiar with. This necessitates a means of permitting the Scarab entry without requiring it to first feed on your Aura.”

“What, you’re going to give me Aura blockers?”

“That would be a fallback,” Watts said. “Ozpin would notice if too many of his students suddenly needed Aura blockers. However, there’s another hole in your head that the Scarab can use. We just had to do some creative excavating first.” He leaned forward in his stool and grabbed Cardin’s nose. “Your last trip to the hospital was too early for us to put this plan into motion, but Cinder had your doctor carve out a path for the Scarab through your nasal cavity.” He pulled on the implant, prying it away from his skull. Cardin grunted. Though he couldn’t feel any pain, he felt an unpleasant sucking sensation inside his face as the adhesive holding the implant in place peeled away. When Watts was done, Cardin’s nose hung loosely to one side, and a draft chilled the flesh beyond his nasal cavity with each breath he took.

“Voila!” Watts said, flourishing his free hand. “One Scarab tunnel, unprotected by your Aura.”

The crow at the window redoubled its efforts to get inside. Watts smiled at it and took out his Scroll, typing in a command. A few seconds later, a loud pop came in through the window, and a net slammed into the crow, dragging it off the branch.

“Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ll tend to my package. I wouldn’t want those useless hunks of metal to screw this up.”

He set the jar down on the stool, told the Knights to watch him, and went downstairs. The two robots stomped to either side of him, rifles in hand, staring ahead at the far window. While Watts was gone, Cardin studied his surroundings, the two robots, the window, roof and walls, the birdcage, and the Scarab on the stool. It seemed to notice his gaze on it and lunged for him, bumping the glass closer to the stool’s edge. As his heart accelerated, so did the Grimm’s efforts.

“He needs me to be afraid of you,” Cardin whispered to the Scarab. “That’s why he’s talking so much, telling me all his plans. He wants me scared.” He breathed in and forced himself to smile at the Grimm. It paused, settling down and staring at him quietly.

With his emotions under control, he turned his attention to escaping the room. He had no hope of breaking the restraints, but he might break the chair with his Semblance. Sending power down his arms, he channeled his Semblance into the chair, increasing its mass. The chair didn’t so much as squeak, but the hardwood floor let out a soft moan.

After a moment, Watts returned, carrying a thick metal net. The crow was flapping inside, squawking shrilly and pecking at Watts’ fingers. Two more Knights followed him in, training their weapons on the crow.

“Well, well,” Watts said, sneering at the bird. “Look what the cat dragged in. Honestly, did you think we didn’t know about your Semblance?” He opened the birdcage on the table and shoved the crow inside. It leapt at the opening, but Watts slammed it shut. He locked the cage with a small brass key from his pocket.

The two Knights, still with orders to escort the bird, kept walking forward. One bumped into the stool, knocking the glass jar to the floor. The jar rolled forward, into the path of the other Knight. It stepped on the jar, crushing it, and the Scarab it contained. Black motes drifted up from the pile of shattered glass.

Watts shook his head and drew a pistol. He shot both offending Knights in the head, dropping them, and ordered two other Knights to drag them downstairs while he brought out another jar.

“I am absolutely mortified for the idiot that programmed these things,” Watts said as he passed the remaining two Knights. “How hard would it be to include an algorithm for avoiding moving objects underfoot?” He took a deep breath and sat back down. The floor squeaked from the additional weight. Watts took out his Scroll and chuckled. “Looks like I was right. Twelve-fold increase in the chair’s weight. Oh, don’t look so surprised. I’ll admit, claiming your Semblance was super strength was a clever trick, but your match against Pyrrha showed how your Semblance really worked.” He tapped the floor. “I took the liberty of reinforcing the building’s walls and floors. They’ll hold the extra weight.” He put his Scroll away and held up the new jar. “Now, where was I?”

He stared at Cardin, waiting for him to speak. The silence remained unbroken. Watts threw up his hand and addressed the bird. “Can you believe him? He’s no fun at all, while the other one took her cues perfectly. Honestly, I have to do everything around here.” He cleared his throat and said, “Yes, I was about to open this jar.” He popped off one of the latches. “We haven’t actually tested this, so kindly let me know if you experience any unusual side-effects. The data would be appreciated for my dissertation on parasitic Grimm.”

The other latch snapped open. Watts gently wriggled the top free and tipped the jar over Cardin’s chest. The Scarab landed on his chest and turned, taking in the room with its beady red eyes. It took a hesitant step closer to Cardin’s head. Cardin glared at the bug, daring it to take another step forward, focusing all his thought on crushing the tiny insect in his hand. The bug stopped and settled into Cardin’s shirt.

“Well, looks like someone saw through my ruse.” He tapped the bug’s back, but it didn’t budge. “You should’ve seen the last one. She screamed and screamed, and the bug went right for her. It looked like her eyeball was going to pop out of her head when the Scarab shoved it aside and wriggled in.” He raised an eyebrow at the Scarab. “Really, nothing?”

“It’s just a bug,” Cardin said, fighting to keep his voice even. “Did you really think I’d be afraid of it?”

Watts gave a theatric gasp and recoiled in mock horror. “My word! You’ve realized that the Scarab needs you to be in a state of panic to take over your mind and have suppressed the natural response to a body-snatching Grimm. My villainous plot is completely ruined! Oh, alas, if only I had a way to force you to feel fear so strong, so absolute, so mind-shatteringly powerful that even a corpse would flee in panic.” He mimed having an idea and grinned. “Hold that thought.”

He turned around and bowed at the empty air. Out of Watts’ shadow rose another Grimm, this one resembling a giant jellyfish. A ruddy red glow emanated from its bulbous flesh, shining out the cracks in the white plate protecting its head. Six long, red tendrils dangled to the floor, each tipped with a bony spike.

As it approached Cardin, the Scarab skittered closer. Cardin pried his eyes away from the Grimm, forcing himself to take even breaths. He stared up at the ceiling, steeling himself for what might come next, when he saw his escape. Watts had fixed up the walls and floors, but he had neglected the roof. The timbers overhead still held, but they were made of older wood, and some of the nails had rusted.

The Scarab raised a tendril, reaching for Cardin’s head. Cardin pushed more of his Semblance, willing it to travel through the building. A bone-white tip touched Cardin’s forehead. The world went out of focus before disappearing entirely.


	38. Chapter 38

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, in case you missed the warning last chapter and think that having a Grimm poking around your head leads to fun times, no. Nothing explicit ahead, I’m being careful to respect the T in this story’s description, but Cardin will not be enjoying this visit to the dentist.
> 
> And like Cardin, I too shall endure a nightmare of mind-melting proportions. Working both days this weekend, for a total of 16 hours overtime, and working through the next week? No thank you! But hey, it’s more money I can throw at art commissions. I mean food. Adult stuff. Not fanart. I’m a good adult.
> 
> Also, after taking a look, I'm not sure that AO3 supports cover art. Ah well. I guess it'll just be for fanfiction.net, unless I find a workaround.

\----------

Cardin woke up in his bed at Beacon, blinking, eyes watering. His heart raced, and his arms burning with the Aura pumping through them. As far as he was aware, he wasn’t pushing his Semblance into anything. He thought about shutting it off, but he felt a vague sense of wrongness, that he was using it for a reason. His head felt fuzzy, and his memories of the past few days were a blur. He had returned from the Defender. He had been injured, Yang did it in the Vytal Festival, but what had happened after?

It was a concussion. Yang had punched him in the head, and the doctor told him to lie in bed for a few days. The dizziness and confusion were normal. But then, why was his Semblance activated? And why did it feel as though is arms and legs were being squeezed?

The door opened. Russell, Sky, and Dove walked into the room, nodding and smiling at him.

“Good, you’re awake,” Sky said. “It’s time to go to the hospital.”

The word ‘hospital’ made his stomach flutter, but he couldn’t understand why. “The hospital?” Cardin asked. “Why are we going there now?”

“You don’t remember?” Russell asked. “Right, the concussion. The docs over there are going to take a look. The guys on Atlas were worried about that shot to the head you took, didn’t have the stuff to fix it.”

Dove pointed his thumb at the door. “Let’s go, Bullhead’s waiting.”

“But – what happened yesterday?” Cardin looked around the room. “Where’s Penny?” He couldn’t say why Penny came to mind, but he knew she was supposed to be there.

“Oh, her?” Sky asked. “Wow, you must be really out of it. When Ironwood told everyone what she was, the police arrested her. They tried to get Ironwood too, but he flew off in his ship.”

He felt it clicking in place in his head, him telling Ironwood to come clean with it, try to do damage control. Why hadn’t it worked?

My head’s a mess.”

“Yep, we’re going to get that sorted out now.” Russell reached under Cardin shoulder and hauled him up. Cardin’s head swam as he rose, it felt as though his skull was being squeezed in a vice. Dove took his other arm, and Sky led the way out of the dorm.

They loaded him onto a Bullhead. After a short flight, the door slid open, revealing a beautiful stretch of garden, walled off with blocks of glittering granite. Broken gravel walkways meandered through slender trees and tangled shrubs in a carefully tended aesthetic sprawl of color and life. A tiny brook dribbled over a bed of smooth stones and into a small pond half-covered with water lilies.

“Come on Cardin, the doctor’s waiting,” Sky said, stepping down onto the path. Stone crunched beneath his boots.

Cardin backed away from his teammates, grabbing for the other door. Dove and Russell grabbed him by his shirt and yanked him out the other end.

“See, told you he’d notice,” Dove said. “We should’ve gotten some more.”

“He’s not going anywhere,” Russell said. “He can barely even walk, see?”

Cardin dragged his feet and wrenched at their arms, but he couldn’t break free from their grip. They went down the path, Cardin’s heels digging furrows in the gravel. Tilting his head up, though it made his neck feel unbearably stiff, he saw a mansion emerge from the trees. He hadn’t seen it from this angle before, but there was no mistaking the sold gold statue of a bear standing at the front, glittering in the sunlight. Duke Orgen’s brown and orange banner fluttered on the corners of the rooftops, and the two servants standing at the garden door, holding it open for his traitorous teammates, had brown coats over orange vests, Orgen-colored livery.

The door slammed shut behind him. Cardin had stopped struggling, instead concentrating on where they took him, which turns they took, what paintings lined the halls, where they had set out tables with antique vases, ornamental displays of Dust crystals, the different colors of lamps glittering from Dust-infused glass.

Two armed guards, dressed in black suits with orange and brown ties, flanked a set of wooden doors. With a nod, they swung the doors out, revealing a small dining chamber. A crystal chandelier, set with Dust crystals, cast red and orange light like dancing flames. The walls were painted orange and brown in intricate geometric patterns, and a lush brown carpet covered the floor, glossy and springy underfoot.

Duke Orgen, dressed in a suit studded with Fire and Earth Dust crystals, resplendent in the colors of his House, sat at one end of a short wooden table, carving into a thick tenderloin steak. At the other end, Cinder wore the dress she had been in when they had first met at his father’s feast. She had a piece of seared tuna on the end of her fork, raised halfway to her lips. The fish’s flesh was bright red on the inside, with the barest hint of light-brown sear around the edges. The rest of the fish sat on a bed of greens on her plate.

Duke Orgen set his fork and knife down and clapped his hands together. “Well well, looks like the main course has arrived! You three can go now.”

“We’re getting our money, right?” Russell asked.

“Of course, of course.” He motioned for the guards to enter the room. “Gentlemen, I have three suitcases waiting in the foyer. They’re each getting one.”

The guards nodded and led Cardin’s teammates out of the room, leaving Cardin alone with Cinder and the Duke. His stomach danced as though it had a whole theater troupe of butterflies running auditions in it. The sudden thought that he couldn’t show fear, couldn’t even allow himself to feel it, steeled his nerves. He took a deep breath and bowed to the Duke, studying the room. Fear would get him killed. He had to stay calm, had to find a way out of this, hard to bring the roof down. Where had that last thought come from?

Before either of them could react, Cardin scrambled for the table and scooped up a large carving knife. The Duke chuckled and wiped the grease off his chin with a large orange napkin. “Looks like the boy still has some fight in him. Cinder, be a dear and take care of it, would you?”

“With pleasure.” Cinder rose from her seat and sauntered towards Cardin. He lashed out with his knife, but Cinder brushed his attack aside. Glass spun itself between her fingers, forming a thin, sharp blade. As Cardin leaned towards her, having overextend his strike, Cinder plunged the blade into his stomach. Light flashed as his Aura absorbed the blow, and with a sharp cold crack, his Aura broke, and the blade dug a long, shallow line just above his belt. Blood seeped into his shirt. He staggered back and fell to the floor, panting and dizzy. Cinder wiped the blood off her blade, rubbing it between her fingers, smiling as it stained her fingers.

“Pathetic.” Cinder snapped her hand, and the glass knife shattered, scattering glittering glass motes into the air. “You thought you could win the Vytal Festival like this?”

“Don’t be so hard on him. Anyone would be weak as a kitten after what he’d been through.” He pushed his plate away and stood up. “Get him patched up. I don’t want him bleeding to death after all the trouble we went through to get him here.”

Cardin looked up at the Duke. His vision had gone blurry, transforming the Duke into a hulking black shape with a bone-white face. His eyes glowed red from the Dust-light. The fear returned, and just as quickly, he crushed it. The roof. He had to bring down the roof. But how? His Aura was gone, and his Semblance… with a start, he realized that his arms still burned, Aura coursing through them. Hadn’t Cinder just broken his Aura?

“You’re not going to kill me?” he asked.

“Not quite yet. Your death will be announced on the evening news, died of complications from your injures. Your father will remarry, and we’ll announce your miraculous recovery just after he ties the knot.” The Duke let out a hearty guffaw. “Any bets on how long it’ll take his new bride’s family to kill him? I’m thinking a week, tops. And after that, we’ll have the Duke of Winchester completely under our power, kept in a hospital room for his health, of course.” He knelt over Cardin and patted his head like a dog. “We can’t allow you to leave and die of your injures, could we?”

The knife was still in his hands. His legs refused to move, and he barely had the strength to sit up. He pressed a hand to his stomach, and it came away smudged red. He looked back at the knife. Just one quick slice, with his Aura gone, and his family would be saved. Duke Orgen’s scheme would unravel around him, he’d have to try getting a doppelganger, which the other Dukes would see through. He just had to…

But his Aura wasn’t gone, was it? It was still burning in his arms, forcing down the roof. Yes, the roof. He can get free if he just brings the ceiling down on Duke Orgen and Cinder. He hurled the knife at the Duke. The older man stepped aside with surprising agility for his bulky frame and scowled at him.

“Cinder, get him under control. I’ll have them get the room ready.”

Cardin slammed both of his hands on the floor, pushing everything he had into weighing down everything around him. He thought he heard the sound of creaking wood overhead, but before anything could happen, Cinder’s foot slammed into the side of his head. The dining room had vanished before his head touched the carpet.

Cardin awoke again, head fuzzy, memories blurred. His eyes stung, and he blinked away tears. The world was a gray blur before his eyes, but when he concentrated, the incoherent shapes resolved into iron bars, stone walls, and an empty, cold corridor. A sudden surge of adrenaline sprang him out of bed, up against the bars. He tested them with his hands, but they were solidly built, firmly set inside the stone, with a thick metal lock. He reached for the keyhole, but his fingers could only graze it. Maybe if he brought down the roof, he could escape. How would that help? The entire cell was solid rock. With a start, he realized that he was using his Semblance. Had he been doing it in his sleep?

Before he could decide to stop the flow of Aura in his arms, footsteps echoed down the hall, with a distinctive clack that suggested high heels. Cardin lurched away from the bars and hid under the ratty blanket.

Keys rattled, and the door clanked open, swinging inward with a loud creak. Rough hands dragged him out of bed and forced him on his feet, but he feigned exhaustion, keeping his eyes closed and hanging his head like a rag doll.

A heeled foot kicked him in the stomach. His eyes flew open, and he gasped for air. Wait, why hadn’t his Aura blocked the blow? And how was he still using his Semblance?

“Good, you’re awake,” Cinder said. “Come along, I have some very special guests here to see you.”

The two goons escorting her dragged him down the narrow, dank corridor and into a dimly lit chamber. Underneath the flickering light sat a desk and chair. A single sheet of paper and a pen were laid out on the desk. Along the walls were racks of countless torture devices. Just looking at them brought him to his knees.

No. No fear, can’t feel fear. Indignation burned, swallowing up his fear for the moment. “What is this? Is this how you treat a ducal heir? The other houses won’t stand for it.”

“No, the Dukes will sit like the good dogs they are.” Cinder ran her hands over a long leather whip. “I have some good news for you, Cardin. Your father is dead. You are now the Duke of Winchester, with full legal possession of all the Winchester assets, the bank accounts, stock shares, land rights, and the rest.

The floor fell out from under him. The guards had to haul him up onto the chair and hold him in place as they bound his chest and legs. The pressure felt familiar, as if it had been there before they had tied the rope.

Cardin looked down at the piece of paper. The words slipped away from him, but he could see the long, empty line at the bottom. “Let me guess, you want me to sign this?”

“Of course. And once that’s done, you’ll get a clean death, quick and painless.” Glass spun in her fingers and glowed white-hot. “You won’t even feel the blade.”

Cardin reached for the pen. He knew it was useless, knew that he’d give eventually. What would it matter if he held out for a few minutes or a few days? But when he brought the pen to the paper, he couldn’t bring himself to sign it. His arms still smoldered with the Aura in them. If he brought down the roof, but no, this ceiling was stone too. Maybe he should try anyways? With his pen hand, he ran it along the words of the document, pretending to read it in detail, while he funneled everything he had through both arms.

Cinder tapped a foot, and it rang through the room. “Well? If you don’t sign soon, I’ll have them start.”

“I’m reviewing the document’s conditions. I won’t decide until I’m done reading it.”

He knew it wouldn’t hold forever, but it would buy him a few minutes. His chest grew numb as Aura drained out of him, but the ceiling gave no hint of change. He could have sworn he heard a distinctive pop, but still nothing happened.

“You’ve had your chance,” Cinder said, “And I’m not willing to wait forever.” She snapped, and the two goons went to the racks. One came away with a blunt club, while the other opened a vice. “I’ll give you one last warning. Sign the paper now, or you won’t like what comes next.”

Cardin gritted his teeth and set the tip of the pen over the dotted line. His hand shook, and he had to use his other hand to steady himself.

“My hands are shaking. You want this signature to be legible, right? Maybe you should lay off on the fear tactics.”

That single word, fear, reverberated through him. He couldn’t feel fear, must not feel fear, or it would be over. But why was that?

Cinder’s expression hardened, and she slammed a hand on the corner of the desk. “You will sign right now, or I’ll have you beaten until every speck of skin on your body is bruised.”

Cardin grabbed the pen at both ends, pushed, and snapped it in two. Bits of plastic splintered off, and ink dribbled out of the cracks, staining the paper.

With a nod from Cinder, one of the guards raised his club and struck him on the side of the head. Consciousness faded, and before the next blow landed, the world vanished.

He opened his eyes again, blinking violently, sudden panic rising and freezing as he realized he was strapped to a chair in a room full of torture implements. His blood was smeared across the floor and stained the desk in front of him, but the sheet of paper and pen set before him were immaculate, glowing as if infused with Dust.

Ruby stood before him. Tears ran down her face as she unwound a knotted whip. “Please don’t make me do this. Just sign the paper, and we can all go home.”

Cardin reached for the pen and threw it. It hit the far wall clattered to the floor, bounced off the bloodied stone, and landed where it had been before.

Ruby cracked the whip on the floor. “I’m sorry. I have to do this, Yang’s going to be executed for killing you if I don’t. Cinder promised me she’d save her. So please, just sign it already!” The whip slammed into the desk right next to his arm, sending vibrations through the wood.

“Do you really think she’s going to keep her word?”

Ruby’s hand dropped, and a fresh wave of tears rolled down her cheeks.

“No, but I have to try.”

Ruby’s hand rose. He had to bring down the roof. Fear would kill him. Cardin’s Semblance roared in his arms. The whip fell.

The sudden pain in his shoulder made him blink, and the world slipped away again. His back stung with every breath he took. His clothes were sticky. The air reeked of sweat and blood, and his throat burned for lack of water.

“You’re not going to sign, are you?” Blake asked.

Cardin shoved the pen away. A second later, it reappeared next to the paper.

“Cinder’s going to frame me as a White Fang spy.” She grabbed a knife from the racks. “Funny, isn’t it? That’s how you used me.” She twirled the blade in her fingers, idly staring it as it spun a shimmering gray circle around her hand. “I had hoped I could run away from my past, but it keeps following me.”

“We don’t get to run away from who we are,” Cardin said. “All we can do is live with it.”

Fear is death. Make the roof fall. Use all his Semblance.

He blinked.

The world was pain. He could feel broken bones in his legs. His tongue probed his mouth, rubbing against gaps in his teeth.

“You knew I loved you,” Weiss said. She turned a pair of pliers in her hands. “You knew, and you used me.”

Cardin’s throat seized up. He tried to speak, but his throat was too dry to manage anything more than a pitiful croak.

“Cinder told me that you had made deals with my father behind my back. My father confirmed it.” Her hands squeezed, and the pliers snapped shut. “I was a fool. I should have seen it sooner, but now I understand what you, Cinder, and all the rest are. You’re monsters. You don’t feel anything for anyone else. All you care about are yourselves, how to use others to get ahead, how to dispose of anyone in your way. You could never love me, could you?”

That question stirred all sorts of uncomfortable feelings in his chest, bitter regret, anger, guilt. What did love even mean to someone like him? At best, he’d get a wife whose best interest lay in keeping him alive long enough to raise a legitimate heir. What would he be for her? Why would she even want him?

“Love you?” he snorted. “Get real. We’ve known each other for what, a few months? You don’t know anything about me.”

The words felt as though they had been torn from his chest. How was he letting her muddle up his thoughts this much?

Weiss’ face hardened. “I know exactly what I need to know about you.” She opened the pliers and held them up in front of him. “I don’t get to go home unless I do as Cinder asks. Sign the paper, or I will be forced to do something I’d rather not.”

Cardin stared at the pen sitting in front of him. He blew, air leaving his lungs in a weak puff of wind, but it was enough to blow the pen over the edge of the desk. It kept rolling in the air, as if the desk stretched invisibly outward, stopped, and rolled back into position.

“Very well. I’m sorry, but this is the only way.”

The pliers reached for him grabbing him by the nose. The roof. No fear. Arms burning.

He blinked.

His whole body burned as Aura was pumped into him. Jaune sat at his side, holding his wrist.

“Cinder had me heal you. She couldn’t have you dying until you signed that paper.”

Cardin reached out, trying to push it away, but he didn’t have the strength to move. As if by Cardin’s will, the pen fell through the desk, only to drop from the ceiling back in place.

Jaune drew a knife from his belt and set it on the desk. “Here. This way, you won’t give Cinder what she wants, right?”

Cardin grabbed the knife and set it against his own throat. His arms burned, not with fatigue or Jaune’s Aura, but his own Semblance. The roof, he had to bring down the roof, that was the only way to escape.

“You’re not going to hurt me?” Cardin asked.

Jaune looked down at him with a sorrowful smile. “I don’t think I could. Not like this. No matter how awful a person is, they don’t deserve this.”

The growing chill in his chest might have been his body’s response to dwindling Aura reserves, or it might have been the thought that Jaune was still trying to help him. He had harassed him, forced him to hurt his own teammates, set him up with a false romance, and he still tried to save him.

The knife fell to the desk.

“Please,” Jaune said. “Cinder said she’d have to find something more convincing. Whatever happens next, I think it’ll be worse than anything in here.”

Fear wriggled through him, but that white-hot, iron-clad resolution strangled it. “She can try.”

The knife rusted before his eyes and blew away in the stagnant air. Jaune sighed and pushed more Aura into Cardin.

Blink.

He was at the docks, surrounded by White Fang, Aura broken and armor gone. They were coming for him with ropes, saying he’d make a good hostage. Blake’s sword was on the ground next to him. There wasn’t a roof here, so why was he trying to bring it down on their heads? And where had that Aura come from?

Blink.

A chittering swarm of Scarabs chased him through the tunnels. Up ahead, the glimmering light that marked the exit vanished, replaced by thousands of beady red pinpricks. No fear, the Scarabs would get him if he felt fear, and why did that name sound right?

Blink.

A book sat open in front of him on the table, the words too blurred to read. His head burned from concentrating, but his arms held an even greater flame. Why was he trying to bring down the roof of his own home?

“You will learn to read,” his father said. “Failure is not an option for a Duke’s son.”

Ah, that’s why. Some structural damage would make a nice distraction from the day’s reading lessons. The birch rod snapped in his father’s hands. He willed himself not to flinch. A Duke’s son can never be afraid.

Blink.

Torchwick stood over him, still wearing his bloodied coat. His eyes stared at him unfocused, unblinking, dead. He leaned forward, and Cardin could smell the stench coming off him. The train’s roof was half caved-in already, it wouldn’t take much more to crush Torchwick with it, just a little more.

“Hello, Cardin,” the cadaver croaked. “Did you miss me?”

Blink.

He was running through the Emerald forest, chased by a howling pack of Beowolves. The trees thinned up ahead, and he slid to a stop a couple steps short of a cliff. Jagged rocks waited for him at the bottom.

Jumping would be the cleaner death, but he couldn’t let himself be afraid. He charged at the swarm, swinging wildly with his mace until teeth sank into his arm.

Blink.

He was running through Beacon’s halls. He could hear Nora’s mad cackling behind him as her hammer smashed through another door.

“Come out, Cardin! I know you’ve been spying for the squirrels!”

The door up ahead was locked. He tried smashing it open, but his mace, even with his Semblance behind it, didn’t even dent the door. Maybe he could bring down the roof, escape that way…

“Boop!”

Blink.

He was back in the cell. Cinder stood on the other side, but her eyes glowed red instead of their usual amber. When she spoke, her lush, silken voice was replaced with an apathetic tone, drained of all personality.

“You resist,” she said. “With time, I could break you, but the human tells me to hurry, so I will take you to Salem.” The walls around him melted away, each drop that fell revealing murky, depthless space. Cinder stood in place as the floor under her dripped away, morphing into a Grimm spheroid, floating, pointed tentacles draped beneath it.

“Be grateful,” the Grimm said. “Not many have had the honor of seeing our queen.”


	39. The Deepest Fear

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To say I had an awful weekend would be putting it lightly. The past three days of work have thrown everything and the kitchen sink at me, including a fairly large hold due to allergen risk, a wrong ingredient dumped in a hopper, wet spice bags, and lots of inspections to juggle around whatever crisis I’m dealing with at the moment. Between that and the fact I’m sitting at about nineteen hours of overtime for the week, I’ve had little time and energy for writing. I’m about half a chapter behind schedule, but luckily, I should be able to keep up the upload schedule. If I can just go the rest of the week without incident, then I’ll get to relax. Just four more days…

\----------

When Cardin came to, he was standing in the middle of a shattered landscape. Outcroppings of rock and Dust pillars taller than he was jutted from the barren rock. The sky was a swirling maelstrom of red and black clouds, glittering from the Dust they carried. Remnant’s shattered moon shone before him, casting long, eerie shadows.

The air had a deathly chill to it, as though he were standing in a morgue. He might as well be, since he could only think of one place in Remnant where Dust grew out of the ground in enormous, pure crystals and the SDC wasn’t swarming over them like locusts. Fear bubbled up, but he smothered it. The Grimm would get him if he let himself be afraid. He clung to that conviction, hardening his resolve around it.

Aura blazed in his arms, holding back the chill of the Grimmlands. He looked up, thinking to see some kind of ceiling. Though the clouds were far beyond his reach, he sent his Semblance to cast them down, without knowing why.

Cardin turned, examining the landscape around him. Off to his right was a castle, standing tall amid the desolation. Magnificent glass windows lined its stone walls, but not a single ray of light shone from them.

It might be the only shelter on the entire continent, but taking in the castle, the landscape, and the ominous colors swirling overhead, Cardin said “Nope” and walked away from the probable deathtrap.

The world slid around him as he took his step. Feeling as though a carpet had been yanked out of him, Cardin had to swing his arms to stay upright. When he regained his balance, he was indoors. Glass windows stood around him, looking out onto the dead landscape and crimson sky. A door was in front of him, solid, black, and when he tried the knob, locked.

When he turned around, he saw a long table, with a white tablecloth laid over it. A vast feast was laid out, piled so high it hid the other side of the table, pies, roasts dripping red with their juices, bowls of steaming vegetables, pitchers of wine and water, loaves of bread darkly crusted and fresh from the oven, buckets of chilled shellfish with trenchers of clarified butter, vibrant salads tossed with oil, and plates of pastries, cakes, and truffles, but he couldn’t smell any of it.

Four chairs sat empty on either side of the table, made of glossy white stone. Windows lined every wall, and although he could see through them, none of the red light shone on the table. Instead, the room’s light came from a chandelier shaped like an inverted tree, with glass bulbs like teardrops dangling from the tips of its white branches, that shone with a flickering purple light. It cast no shadows.

“What are you waiting for?” a woman’s voice called from across the table. “Sit down and eat. It’s been quite some time since I’ve had a guest.”

Cardin shivered. The disdain in her voice made him feel as though he were an insect she had taken casual interest in, to be crushed underfoot if it displeased her. He stepped towards the table, and the world lurched again. This time, Cardin fell, but a chair zipped under him, a high-backed seat that looked and felt as though it had been carved from a solid mass of human bone.

Cardin loaded up his plate, but he didn’t touch any of the food. “Might I ask who you are?”

The woman chuckled. Cardin felt his bones freeze, and his hands tightened around the arms of his chair. Maybe he could bring down this ceiling, if he tried hard enough.

“You don’t recognize me? Oh wait, I left all this food between us. Silly me, I’ll take care of it.”

The food floated aside, hovering over the empty seats. Through the cleared space, Cardin could see the woman – no, thing – sitting at the other end. Glowing red veins bulged out from her chalk-white skin. Her hair hung in stringy, silvery strands like spider-web, bunched up with black cord, making it look as though a giant pale spider squatted on the back of her head.

“What are you?”

The monster chuckled. “You don’t know? Ozma does love keeping secrets, doesn’t he?” She leaned back on her throne, a seat made of glossy black Dust crystals jutting out at odd angles. “Tell me about yourself first.”

He told the monster his name. It scoffed and asked for more, where he came from, what he was and did, who his friends and enemies were. Minutes dragged by as he told the thing his life story, but by the time he finished, steam still rose from the pies and breads, and the ice hadn’t melted in the shellfish buckets.

“Just a child,” the monster mused, “And one of my Seers failed to break you. What a fascinating specimen.” A smile curled her lips, though it did nothing to still the enmity in her blood-red eyes. “Perhaps you would be of more use to me unbroken.”

He tried to look her in the eyes, but his heart lurched and quivered under her baleful gaze. He looked down, at the untouched portions on his plate. Maybe making the roof fall on her head wouldn’t do anything, but it couldn’t hurt to try. His arms still thrummed with Semblance, but he couldn’t tell if the chill in his chest came from Aura depletion or the bottled-up fear of being seated across from this monstrosity. “You never told me your name.”

“Yes, I suppose I should. It’s only polite.” She cleared her throat. “My name is Salem.”

The name echoed in his head. He knew he had heard it before, though he couldn’t identify where or when. “The Queen of the Grimm,” he whispered. It carried across the room, bouncing off the windows like a chorus of frightened souls.

“So you have heard of me.” Salem leaned forward, her plate sliding away to make room for her elbows. “Ozma must have brought you into his inner circle. Interesting.”

Salem cocked her head, listening to a voice only she could hear. Then she nodded. “Ah, the Seer told you. Still, you could serve me well.”

“Serve you?” Cardin asked, voice mild and polite. “Why would I do that?”

“So I don’t leave you a gibbering shell of a man, for a start.” She rose, and the food vanished. “Come. Let me show you something.”

Cardin left his seat and backed away, but the world slid again. When the world righted itself, Salem was standing right next to him. Cardin jumped and shied away, nearly falling down the cliff surrounding them. Looking down, he saw that they stood on a giant pillar of Dust, at least a couple hundred feet tall. Further in front of him was a bubbling black pool, somehow crystal clear despite its color, deep enough to reach the heart of Remnant. From its putrid surface rose Grimm, clawing, scraping their way up the rocky shore, black droplets running off their fur and feathers and mask, running from their eyes like tears.

The newly created Grimm shuffled down the gaps left in the ranks of their brethren. Cardin peered into the horizon, trying to judge how many Grimm stood before him, and realized that the horizon was Grimm. Indistinct mountains in the distance had bone masks and stares like crimson lighthouse beacons. The Grimm standing closer to him, Beowolves, Ursa, Boarbatusks, and some he had never seen before, waited without moving, like Atlesian Knights sitting on their charging stations. He looked farther out, hunting for the slightest hint of movement, but the Grimm landscape was still.

“There are more underground,” Salem said. “Many, many more. If I wished it, I could drown the other continents in Grimm, like you see before you, and still have enough to fill an ocean or two.”

Cardin turned, taking in the Grimm-infested vista. Nevermore were perched on hollowed-out cliffs, and Feilongs lounged in a wide river meandering off in the distance. “We’ve landed here before and haven’t seen this many.”

“It’s been a while,” Salem said, “And I made sure they never made it far enough to see this. It wouldn’t do to have humans poking around my castle.”

Cardin raised an eyebrow at her, though just looking in the direction, let alone making such a show of exaggerated emotion, made his stomach curdle. “Why would you care? If all you need to do to win is wave your hand, why don’t you?”

“Because that would be boring.” She held up one hand, examining the bulging veins and white skin in the shattered moonlight. “Tell me, what do you know of the Brothers?”

“One for creation, one for destruction, made Remnant and left.” Cardin shrugged. “That’s about it.”

“They didn’t leave, not right away.” She lowered her hand, placing it on Cardin’s shoulder. Her touch made him flinch, but she didn’t seem to notice. “They stuck around to play around with their humans. They built temples for themselves and invited humans to pay tribute to them. Big surprise, the humans went to the one that gave bountiful harvests and healthy children instead of the one that made famine and illness. All of them, except me.”

“What made you go to him?”

“I lost someone dear to me, before his time. When I asked the elder Brother to bring him back to me, he refused. It would break the cycle. So, I went to the younger. He also refused me at first, but when I asked why he felt bound by the rules, why he couldn’t break them as he wished, he agreed. My loved one was brought back to me.” Salem’s fingers tightened around his shoulder, and her fingernails, as sharp and black like obsidian knives, sliced into his skin. “But the elder Brother noticed. He convinced the younger that I had tricked him and forced me to live forever as punishment for breaking his precious cycle of life and death.”

“Ironic,” Cardin said.

Salem chuckled, a rasping sound that set Cardin’s teeth on edge. “I like you. It would be a shame to have to break you.” Her hand crept down to his back, poised to push him off their platform and into the bubbling pit the Grimm had crawled from.

“It didn’t take long for me to give in to despair and madness. At first, I tried to rally the humans against the Brothers, claiming that they kept immortality from us out of spite and showing them I couldn’t die. I made allies of every kingdom, their rulers eager to live forever, and attacked the Brothers. It wasn’t anywhere close to a fair fight. The younger Brother burned the armies of men and cast pieces of the moon on the landscape. They left, leaving the few survivors, myself included, to pick up the pieces.”

Cardin felt his typical boredom at the history lesson, but the hand on his back kept him from yawning or interrupting with an impolite quip. Instead, he asked, “How do the Grimm come into this?”

“They were the younger Brother’s playthings, made to amuse him while the humans lavished attention on the elder. Once they were gone, all that remained of the Brother of Destruction was this pool he had once called home.” Salem’s lips twisted into a wry smile. “Since the waters of Creation made me immortal, I thought that these waters might undo the curse.” Her fingers drummed on his back. Each one felt like a tiny shove, pushing him closer to the edge. “Do you have any idea how agonizing it is to be submerged in pure destructive power, trying everything to tear your body apart, and being kept alive through it all?”

He looked down at the pool and shuddered. “I’m guessing I’ll find out if I turn down your offer.”

“A good guess. Anyways, once I crawled out of that wretched pit, I found that the Grimm answered my orders. At first, I tried ruling over the humans, using my control of Grimm to grant them paradise.” Her eyes flashed, and she grabbed the back of his shirt, crushing it in her grip. “Let’s just say, someone turned the people against me, and I was banished to this place, where I have remained ever since.”

Cardin’s toes hung over the edge of the pillar, but he didn’t dare try to step back, not with Salem poised to shove him forward. Instead, he asked, “If you aren’t trying to kill every human, then what do you want?”

For once, the voice sounded hesitant. “I’m not sure. I still long for my existence to end, but not before I’ve had my revenge. I’m not entirely sure I can achieve that. Ozma’s been forced to endure the immortality I suffered, except as a parasite, taking host after host through the ages. I know it’s grated on him, slowly destroying the people he occupies. I’ve seen him drink more than one life away, and he even tried suicide a few times. Killing him would be a kindness he does not deserve.”

“As for the Brothers, I doubt they care what I do to this world. They’ve abandoned it for so long, abandoned Ozma and all the rest of the humans. I slaughtered millions and let the Grimm feast on their corpses, drowned the seas in blood, and they did nothing. I set factions against each other, letting humanity tear itself apart before their eyes, and they did nothing. But there is one way to get their attention.”

She looked down at him, studying his expression as he studied hers. Cardin felt his skin crawl under her gaze, but he took a slow, deep breath and met her stare.

“Tell me,” she asked, “Have you heard anything about the Relics?”

Cardin shook his head. She told him of the four Relics, their powers, how Ozma had hidden them away, and the four keys required to access their vaults.

“That’s what Cinder is after,” Cardin said.

“Yes. Unfortunately, she only has half of the Fall Maiden’s power. Until she takes the other half, the Relic of Choice is out of my reach.”

“And Ironwood has the Relic of Creation.”

One of her pale, thin eyebrows rose. “How do you know that?”

“Ironwood used it to create a robot with Aura. He mentioned that its source had ancient protections.”

Salem’s other hand rose to stroke her chin. “It has been a while since a human has had the audacity to use that Relic. Ozma won’t be pleased if he finds out.”

“So, you want me to help you acquire the four Relics, so you can summon the Brothers and either kill them or let them kill you. What happens after?”

“After? For you humans, I suppose?” When Cardin nodded, she said, “I have no interest in you. You may do as you please.”

“Does that mean you would get rid of the Grimm?”

Salem snapped her fingers. As far as the eye could see, the black landscape dissolved and floated away in black motes. The Nevermore on their perches, the Feilong in the river, every Beowolf and Ursa and the hulking Goliaths in the distance, disappeared. A Wyvern, hidden behind the clouds, fell from the sky, dissolving away before it hit the ground. Once the dust had cleared, all that remained was a barren plain, trodden flat by the hordes of Grimm.

“If that is your wish, it will be done.”

Cardin took a deep breath and looked out over the edge. By all logic, he should take her offer, that he had no other escape from the fate that awaited him with a single push, but the Semblance still burned in his arms, that voiced whispered over and over, pounding that mantra into his skull, to not feel fear, fear is death, fear will let them control him, and he knew against all evidence, all reason, that there were wooden beams over him that would fall if he just pushed a little more Aura into them.

“Why offer me this?” Cardin asked. “As powerful as you are, you don’t need me to get the Relics for you. I can’t even serve as one of the Maidens, if you have those restrictions right, nor do I know who any of them are or where the Relics are hidden. I have resources and connections, but my house is on the verge of ruin thanks to Cinder. Why do you want me?”

“Because you intrigue me. You are cautious, but not fearful, skeptical, but not blinded by your beliefs. With time, you could be a very powerful ally, especially if Ozma takes interest in you.”

“That would be dangerous.”

“You wouldn’t be the first of my spies Ozma has killed. Don’t get caught, and it won’t be a problem.”

As Cardin hesitated, pondering how to continue the conversation, Salem hoisted him by the shirt and lifted him over the edge. “I’m starting to get bored, Cardin. Time to make your choice.”

Cardin forced himself to hang limp and not look down at the bubbling pit of death below him. He might have three seconds or ten, but such a short span of time wouldn’t matter if his Semblance didn’t do something that instant. Ignoring the sensation of frost coating his lungs, Cardin pushed the last of his Aura out around him, willing his surroundings to get heavier.

“Well?” Salem asked. Her grip loosened, and Cardin’s shirt slid an inch before coming to a sudden stop. Cardin’s heart leapt into his throat, but he kept up the pressure with his Aura.

A sharp crack, like thunder, came from overhead, but none of the swirling clouds held a single spark. Salem looked up, puzzled. “Did that come from the other end? Her eyes narrowed at him. “You did something, didn’t you?”

His tongue froze, though he tried to deny having done anything. The last thing he needed was to be on the black book of the Grimm Queen. He took a deep breath and prepared to explain himself, but Salem never gave him the chance. She let go, and he tumbled through the air.

Cardin spread his arms, searching for some spark of Aura within him, but he was spent, cold, shivering with exertion and pent-up fear. Fifty feet. Forty. Thirty.

Blink.

A wooden beam slammed to the ground next to him, crushing the Seer. Black motes drifted out from under the fallen wood. Watts cursed and reached for his gun, but another timber gave way, slamming into the back of his head. His gun clattered to the floor, and the key to the birdcage, once nestled in his coat pocket, bounced out and landed next to Cardin’s chair.

With the extra weight of half the roof on the floor, something snapped, and the floor caved downward, sagging as more and more of the roof piled onto it. It broke, and the room disappeared in a shower of wooden splinters and falling debris. When he hit the bottom floor, the chair split under his weight, and the base snapped off. As the chair fell apart, the straps holding Cardin fell away. The chair turned, and Cardin felt a sharp pain in his gut when he landed. Pushing himself up, he saw a long shard of wood sticking out of his stomach.

“Not again,” he growled.

The two Knights that were by the door had fallen through and were crushed under a wooden beam. One reached for its gun, but it lay out of reach of its claw-like hands. Watts, also having fallen to ground level, was on his feet, but reeling, woozy from the blow to his head.

A glint of metal, just in front of his face, caught his eye. He reached for it, brushing aside the dust and wooden shrapnel that hid it. It was the key. He snatched it up and looked for the birdcage. The table was still on the second floor, but as he watched, the table pitched forward, spilling his Scroll, the doctor’s note, and the birdcage. The crow squawked as its cage hit the ground floor, and as it was thrown against the metal bars, the spikes on the inside dug into it, but Aura prevented them from drawing blood.

Watts had mentioned a Semblance, had expected it to come. Whoever was in there might be the only aid he’ll have against Watts and his remaining rogue Knights.

He crawled on all fours, taking shallow breaths to keep the sliver of wood from moving too much. Step by agonizing step, he approached the birdcage. The crow watched him approach, waiting.

Watts bellowed at the two robots still in the stairway. “Kill him!”

Two Knights marched into the room, guns raised, but one slipped on a roof tile, taking the other down with it. They fired their guns, trying to hit Cardin, but their guns were pointed into the concrete floor. The rounds turned the floor beneath them to gravel.

“Must I do everything myself?” Watts hissed as he fumbled around the floor for his gun, having dropped it during the fall. Cardin wasn’t about to tell him it was right behind him, under a blanket of roof tiles. Gritting his teeth, Cardin pushed on, scratching his hands and knees on broken concrete. Splinters dug into his palms, but Cardin didn’t stop to wrap his shirt around his hands.

The pain, the wooden beam crashing down right behind him, the gunshots roaring from the downed Knights, everything faded away, leaving only the sliver of vision that held the birdcage. His head spun and his limbs shook as he grew closer. As he came within arm’s reach, he shoved the key forward, struggling to put it in the lock with his trembling hand. The tip brushed against the keyhole, sticking there long enough for Cardin to push down, forcing the key to twist in his hands. When it sank all the way in, Cardin turned, opening the cage with a snap. The door sprang open, and the crow flapped out in a shower of feathers.

A burst of gunfire filled the room, the two Knights outside having stumbled their way into the room and Watts having just found his gun. Cardin turned, raising his arm in front of his face, but a Hunstman stood before him, deflecting the shots with an enormous sword. His tattered red cloak fluttered behind him as he rushed forward, taking out both standing Knights with a single swing of his sword.

Watts shot the Huntsman in the side while he was undefended, but Aura absorbed the impact. The Hunstman winced in pain and crouched in a defensive stance, eyeing Watts warily.

“I have to admit, I’m not much of a fighter,” Watts said, raising both his hands. “So, why don’t you take Cardin to a hospital and let me go?”

The Huntsman looked back at Cardin. Cardin did his best to look as though he wasn’t feeling woozy from blood loss and Grimm-induced hallucinations, but from the way the Hunstman frowned at him, he must have looked as horrible as he felt.

Before the Hunstman could reply, the descent of a Bullhead shook the debris. Heavy thumps, marking the deployment of more Knights, came from just outside the door. Winter’s voice carried through the open room, ordering the Knights to form a perimeter.

The Huntsman smirked at Watts and shouted up through the roof, “Ice Queen, get Cardin to Ozpin. I’m going after the perp.”

“Qrow, is that you?” she shouted back. “This is an Atlesian operation, do not interfere.”

“Funny, I thought you guys got kicked out of Vale. Just get Cardin to Ozpin, now. A Seer got him.”

Watts meanwhile, was scowling and digging in his coat pockets. When Qrow turned back to his adversary, Watts threw some black spheres on the ground, filling the room with dense black smoke. With the Huntsman distracted, Watts sprinted upstairs, making his way around the hole in the center of the second floor to the safe, still sitting in the corner. He reached around the back, hitting a hidden switch, before jumping back to ground level, scrambling for a hidden escape hatch, and slamming it shut behind him.

Two of Winter’s Knights pounded on the closed hatch while Winter and Qrow carried him into the Bullhead. Winter hurried to the pilot, having them take off immediately, while Qrow peered into Cardin’s eyes, forcing them to stay open with his fingers.

“You with me, kid?”

“Yeah,” Cardin croaked. “Thanks.”

“Thank my niece. She called me to the hospital, and I caught a glimpse of them dragging you into that Bullhead.” His smile disappeared, and he gently put a hand on Cardin’s shoulder. “Did the Seer do anything?”

As Cardin struggled to remember what had happened, memories flooded back to him in an overwhelming deluge, sweeping away the last of his adrenaline-fueled fortitude. Betrayal, torture, pain, a sea of Grimm, spreading out as far as the eye could see, and Salem. He didn’t try to stop the tears, didn’t even have the presence of mind to, as the Hunstman set his face in his lap.


	40. Interview With a Seer Survivor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The good news is, the work week has quieted down, a whole weekend off is just around the corner, and my sanity is preserved. Bad news is, I’m a whole chapter behind my writing schedule. For the moment, it won’t affect my upload schedule, but any further delays will set things back.
> 
> I’ll be doing plenty of cooking this weekend, including but not limited to homemade corned beef hash, chicken dumpling soup, Mongolian chicken stew, oatmeal chocolate chip pecan cookies (with baking soda, this time) and strawberry shortcake. 
> 
> To Otter Boom, whose review last chapter I should've replied to, yes, I have read the Wheel of Time, and yes, I now see the connection to the flicker chapter. It wasn't something I was consciously thinking about when writing this, but the resemblance is uncanny. Also, who in their right mind wouldn't nope away from the dark, silent castle sitting square in the middle of a foreboding, dangerous landscape? Not going towards obvious landmarks is horror survival 101.

\----------

When Cardin came to, he heard two people arguing in the background. He recognized one as Winter, but while the other voice was familiar, he had no name or face to go with it.

“Why are we going up?” the man asked. “He needs Ozpin, now!”

“His wounds need treating,” Winter said. “We might lose him if he goes into shock.”

“We have that healing Semblance kid at Beacon.”

Winter snorted. “A lot of good that did him last time.”

“Look, you know what happened to him.”

“And if that’s true, there’s nothing anyone can do for him.”

“If anyone can, it’s Ozpin. Get us down to Beacon before I start cracking heads.”

Winter drew her rapier and pointed it at the Huntsman, but he made no move towards his own weapon. They locked stares as the Bullhead rose closer to the Defender, but eventually, Winter sheathed her sword.

“Take us down to Beacon,” she told the pilot. The Huntsman smirked and leaned back in his seat, taking out a gray metal flask. The smell of alcohol filled the Bullhead. Winter grimaced at the harsh scent and scowled at the flask.

“I’m amazed you haven’t drunk yourself blind yet,” she snapped.

“I wish I have. That way, I’d never have to see James’ ugly mug again.”

Winter’s rapier slid a few inches out of its sheath, but the impending fight was interrupted by the Bullhead touching down at Beacon’s airdocks. Ozpin and Goodwitch were waiting for them, along with the school nurse, Jaune, and Cardin’s teammates. In one hand, Ozpin held a steaming mug of coffee, printed with Beacon’s logo, while the other held a cane, though his posture said he needed no help walking. His face held no emotion, but the twitching of his eyes as they scanned Cardin betrayed the thoughts and question spinning in the Headmaster’s mind.

Winter and the Huntsman loaded him onto a stretcher, and they trundled him over to the nurse’s office. Jaune reached for Cardin’s wrist, but the nurse stopped him.

“We should remove the splinters first,” the nurse said.

She started with the smaller ones in his palm, pulling them out with a tweezers. Beads of blood welled up and rolled off his hands. Once the smaller splinters were out, the nurse inspected the larger one, gently tilting it side to side and checking how deep it went. Once she was satisfied it wouldn’t get caught on his skin, she eased the splinter out of his stomach.

“Now Jaune,” the nurse said.

Warmth flooded into him. Within moments, the smaller wounds had vanished, while the larger puncture had scabbed over. Cardin flexed his fingers, feeling the tightness of the new skin on his palms.

“How are you holding up?” the Huntsman asked.

“I’m fine,” Cardin reflexively said. Images the Seer had shown him flashed through his head, his capture, the torture, and Salem. His heart fluttered in his chest, and his breathing grew shallow. He told himself it was all just illusions, a trick of the mind played by the tentacled Grimm. If there really was a Queen of the Grimm, the Dukes would be aware of it. He’d have heard something by now. It was all just a bad dream, not real.

Ozpin took a sip from his mug. “Perhaps we should discuss what had happened in my office?” He turned to Jaune and the nurse. “Thank you both for treating his wounds. I ask that you do not go spreading rumors around campus.”

The nurse nodded, but Jaune protested. “Aren’t you going to tell us what happened?”

Ozpin paused, but Winter cut in, “Cardin was attacked by members of the White Fang. They planned to use him as a hostage. We wish to keep rumors from spiraling out of control before we issue an official statement on the matter.”

The Headmaster raised an eyebrow at her, but Jaune nodded. “Thank you. I won’t tell anyone.”

Once Jaune was gone, Ozpin gave Winter a flat look. “Really, the White Fang? There’s enough rumors about them as is.”

“She wasn’t lying,” Cardin said. “The pilot had the mask.”

Winter shot him a surprised look, but Ozpin sighed and took another sip of coffee. “Great, another reason for the Dukes to get riled up and impose sanctions on Menagerie.”

“Well, who else are we going to blame it on?” the Huntsman asked. “Not like anyone else is going around kidnapping people these days.”

Ozpin stared at the door. “My office has more seats. Does anyone else want coffee?”

The Huntsman shook his flask, which earned him a resigned frown from the Headmaster. Winter and Goodwitch both politely declined. Cardin, parched from the near-death experiences, accepted anything that would make his throat less itchy.

It took two trips up the elevator to fit everyone, and another trip for Goodwitch to fetch some extra seats. By the time she came back, Ozpin had laid out six mugs of coffee. He passed one to Cardin and left the others spread out on his desk.

Cardin took a tentative sip. The coffee was black, no hint of cream or sugar in it, but it lacked the usual acidic bite of straight coffee. It had a mellow, smooth flavor, more like hot cocoa than standard coffee for its natural sweetness and nutty notes. With a few gulps, he finished the rest of it.

“Shall we get on with it?”

“In a bit, Qrow,” Ozpin said. “I want Doctor Oobleck to document what Cardin says, and I think Ironwood should hear this in person.”

“I took the liberty of informing the General that we would be here,” Winter told them. “He should arrive in a few minutes.”

“Excellent. The coffee should still be warm.”

As the group sat in awkward silence, Cardin leaned over to Russell and asked, “What happened?”

“They got us,” Russell said. “Some other girl had an illusion Semblance and lured us away, short, pink and brown hair, uses an umbrella. They rigged a Bullhead to lock us in.”

The description tickled Cardin’s memory, but before he could inquire further, the elevator opened. Oobleck rushed in, carrying armloads of books and stacks of papers that leaned precariously over his shoulder. “Terribly sorry I’m late, I gathered all the materials I have on Seers. I also have a voice recorder so we can document the entire testimony, straight from the source.” He spread the books out across Ozpin’s desk and opened them up to bookmarked sections. “We can cross-reference with the texts as we go.”

Ironwood strode in after the doctor, followed by Penny. The robot had a dent on the side of her head, though her long hair helped obscure it. She smiled and waved at Cardin when she saw him.

“I’ve been briefed on what had happened since Winter had arrived on the scene,” the General said. He gave Cardin a short bow, placing one hand on his chest. “Cardin, I must apologize. I had offered you protection, and it proved inadequate. Perhaps I can have Winter escort you as well.”

Cardin shook his head. “They won’t be able to pull this stunt twice, and people will ask questions if I start walking around with an armed escort. Penny will do for the moment.”

Ironwood nodded, took a seat, and claimed one of the mugs. Winter grabbed one as well. Ozpin gestured for Oobleck to take one, but the professor took his thermos out of a pocket.

“Why don’t we begin with how this abduction happened?” Ironwood asked.

Cardin opened the discussion with the forced trip to the hospital and the plan he had worked out with his escort. Russell filled in how they were led away with an illusory Cardin, how the copy hadn’t spoken a word and made sure not to be touched, shattering on contact in a Bullhead rigged to keep them inside. Cardin finished the tale with a description of the man waiting outside the exam room and the White Fang member waiting to fly them off.

“We don’t know for sure if the White Fang are involved,” Cardin quickly added. “It could just as easily be a Duke’s man in disguise.”

“I’m inclined to think that as well,” Ozpin said. “It’s not like the Fang to take orders from a human. As for the mastermind of this plan, I’ll send out a description to all the Huntsmen.”

“The escape tunnel led to a dead end,” Winter said. “There’s no telling where he may be at the moment.”

“It’s safe to assume he is still in Vale,” Ironwood said. “All the same, I will pass his description on to our forces in the outlying settlements, who will no doubt wish to help.” The General finished that sentence with a glower at Ozpin.

The Headmaster returned a frosty stare. “We at Vale are grateful for their assistance. Now, back to the matter at hand.” He gave Cardin a warm smile and refilled his mug from one of the unclaimed cups of coffee. “I have some idea of what you have gone through, Cardin. I’ve already heard Qrow’s account of events, including their plans for the Scarabs from Mount Glenn.”

“We searched the cabinet,” Winter added. “The contents had been thoroughly scorched.”

Qrow stretched his arms and took a swig. “That bastard went straight for the cabinet in that smoke. I didn’t get a good look in there, but it looked like he had a lot more ready to go.”

Ozpin cleared his throat, and the others fell silent, looking at him. Ozpin adjusted his glasses and leaned forward in his chair. “Cardin, what you and your teammates are about to hear is usually reserved for students in their final year. There is a certain kind of Grimm rarely seen, but whose presence signifies an age of hardship for mankind.”

“The Seer,” Cardin said numbly, thinking of the barbed tentacle reaching for him.

“Quite right, Mr. Winchester.” Doctor Oobleck pulled up illustrations of the spherical Grimm and accounts of their past sightings. “In ages past, Seers acted as field officers for the Grimm, relaying orders to a large pack and coordinating their attack. Just one mixed in with a small pack of Grimm can destroy a town, and half a dozen could cripple an entire kingdom. Seers communicate with other Grimm via telepathy, giving orders to Grimm within a short range and coordinating with Seers at a longer distance. In a way, they are the Grimm equivalent of a CCT.”

“That’s not all they can do,” Cardin said.

“Unfortunately not.” Oobleck dug up more texts, outlining accounts of battles where commanding officers were captured and returned, broken in mind and spirit, raving about nightmarish visions.

“What’s important,” Ozpin said, “Is the fact that you appear to have come away relatively unscathed. The fact you are able to hold a conversation and answer questions is far more than anyone else in human history has ever managed, which means you are in a unique position to offer insight on how Seers break their victims. So, if you don’t mind, I would very much appreciate it if you could give a full account of what happened. What did the Seer do, and how did you fight back?”

Cardin recounted the visions, the feeling of confusion that pervaded each scene, how, experiencing them, he had believed everything was real. He explained how he felt himself using his Semblance each time, and how it drove a recurring thought in the back of his head, that he felt the urge to bring down a roof even when there wasn’t one overhead.

“The Seer could make you think your Aura was gone, but it couldn’t hide the use of your Semblance, correct?” Oobleck asked as he was taking notes. “The contradictions your Semblance made likely allowed you to subconsciously recognize your situation and act accordingly. If anyone could use their Semblance to maintain their sanity during the process, we may never lose anyone else to a Seer again.”

“I’m not sure,” Cardin said. “I don’t think I would’ve lasted much longer. I had no idea what was going on or what I was doing, and it was getting harder to concentrate each time.”

Cardin went on to explain his last vision. The adults leaned forward attentively as he described the landscape where he last found himself. Oobleck’s writing gained momentum, nearly tearing the paper with each stroke of his pen. He watched them carefully as he went into the last part, curious to see if his experience with the Grimmlands lined up with what they knew.

“There hasn’t been any record of Dust on the lost continent’s surface,” Oobleck mentioned when Cardin paused for more coffee, “But it’s not out of the question. The rivers had high concentrations of Dust in their silt. It may be worth another expedition to verify this theory.”

The General slammed a hand on Ozpin’s desk. “Are we going to trust a vision, brought on by a Grimm no less? We lost nearly fifty Huntsmen last time we tried an expedition and had nothing to show for it.”

“Easy, James,” Ozpin said. “Let’s hear the rest of Cardin’s tale before discussing what to do.”

When he told them about the castle, Ozpin pressed him for more details. The Headmaster’s expression grew darker as Cardin described the tall windows, stone walls, and the layout of the towers and keep.

“Ridiculous,” James said. “The continent’s been uninhabited for all of human history.”

“All of recorded history,” Oobleck countered. “It’s entirely possible that it’s a ruin from ancient times, maybe even before the Brothers’ departure.”

“But for it to be in the condition described,” Goodwitch said, “With the windows intact, it couldn’t have been abandoned for long, if at all.”

Cardin told them what had happened when he attempted to walk away from the castle, and where he found himself after he was whisked inside. He spoke of the unseen person across the table, how the food parted to reveal a monster, and what she called herself.

Ozpin didn’t twitch a muscle, but Ironwood, Goodwitch, and Qrow all glanced at the Headmaster with a mixture of alarm and uneasiness. Oobleck’s scribbling rose to a fever pitch, and his hand, fueled by Dust-laced coffee, raced through page after page.

“Incredible,” Oobleck said. “And you say this individual introduced herself as the Queen of the Grimm?”

“I knew it, from the Seer,” Cardin replied, studying the interchange of looks and signals around him. “It mentioned that it would take me to her, said that it had to hurry up with breaking me. I have to say, that was a terrifying vision.”

Ozpin leapt at the opening. “Indeed. It would be horrible to imagine that the Grimm had an intelligent mind directing their actions. Were it the case, undoubtedly mankind would have fallen a long time ago.”

Oobleck looked up. “We’re assuming the visions are a fabrication?”

“What else could they be?” James cut in. “The very notion of a Grimm Queen is absurd.”

“But, to dismiss a theory without even testing it, shouldn’t we at least prepare for the possibility?” Oobleck took a long swallow from his thermos and launched into a long-winded discussion of possible gambits and strategies that such a Queen could attempt and how they could counter them. What few snatches Cardin had picked out troubled him – Nevermore dropping smaller Grimm over their walls, Grimm forming actual battle lines, complete with air support and makeshift artillery. He was halfway through describing how to defend against nocturnal air raids when Goodwitch shoved the thermos into Oobleck’s hands, prompting him to take another swallow.

“Shall we continue?” Ozpin asked in the renewed silence.

As Cardin continued the story, Oobleck went back to his notes. Cardin gave a detailed account of his discussion with Salem, telling her his life story, what she claimed her desires were, the Relics and the Maidens.

“The Seer must be gleaning facts from my mind,” Cardin said, “Because I had the idea that Penny was made using the Relic of Creation, and Salem confirmed it.”

“Oh really?” Ozpin asked, his voice forcefully calm as he lifted an eyebrow at Ironwood. The General returned Ozpin’s stare without hesitation. “And, out of curiosity, did she say how she intends to get a hold of the Relics?”

He told them about Cinder, how she had only half of the key to Vale’s vault, though he didn’t know how the power got split in two. Aura-stealing with more Scarabs and/or forcing the other Maidens to open the Vaults would serve for the rest.

“What else did she say?” Qrow asked. Ozpin watched him, but the Huntsman continued, “Did you ask her what she wanted?”

“Yes, actually.” Cardin cleared his throat, suddenly feeling every stare on him. “She took an interest in me and asked me to work with her.”

At once, he felt the temperature of the room drop.

“Surely you didn’t agree,” Ironwood blurted out.

“I was planning on it,” Cardin said. “She was holding me over a bubbling pit of death, what else would I do? But that’s skipping ahead.”

He repeated Salem’s main goals and desires. Ozpin’s expression didn’t falter, but the others seemed intrigued and puzzled by the information.

“So, according to this dream of yours, the Brothers will return once the Relics they left behind are gathered?” Oobleck asked. “Is there a specific location to which they must be brought? Do they have to be used in a specific way?”

Cardin shrugged off the questions. “She didn’t explain much. She seemed more interested in making it clear she had no interest in killing humans.”

“Which puzzles me,” Ironwood said, looking at Ozpin. “If that isn’t her goal, why harass us with constant Grimm attacks?”

“She doesn’t want you getting too strong, I imagine,” Cardin answered. “If she really wanted to, in the dream, at least, she had more than enough Grimm to wipe us out.”

It took him a few minutes to fully describe the vast scope of what he saw when she took them on top of the pillar, a landscape of Grimm, rivers choked with black bodies, clouds billowing under countless wingbeats, the haze of black specks that drifted away when she snapped her fingers.

“And then the sound of cracking wood came overhead. Salem heard it, and thought I did something.” Cardin scratched at the back of his head. “Guess I did. She threw me off the cliff, and when I woke, the Seer was crushed beneath a fallen beam.”

“You got extraordinarily lucky,” Ozpin said with a sly smile at the Huntsman. “Good thing Qrow was there to get you out.”

Cardin snorted. “I got him out. He got himself thrown in a bird cage.”

“And then I got you out,” Qrow finished. “Mission accomplished.”

“As I recall,” Winter said, “I’m the one that secured the premises. You’re the one that let the criminal escape.”

“Oh excuse me, not my fault you and your walking trash buckets were late.”

“Enough, both of you,” Ozpin said. He turned to Oobleck and gestured at the growing pile of papers with his mug. “Is that sufficient for your notes, Doctor?”

“Hm?” Oobleck looked up, glasses askew. “Oh, yes, quite! It was very informative. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ll be taking this back to my office. There’s a few texts I’d like to reference before diving into a thesis. Once we can get a proper academic debate going, we might learn far more about the Seers than we could have ever hoped. I’ll send you a rough draft in the morning.”

The Doctor swept up the papers and books in one bulging armful and sprinted into the elevator. Once the elevator returned, Ironwood asked Winter to escort Cardin and his teammates back to his room. Her eyes snapped back to the remaining Huntsmen and authority figures, jaw clenching. Qrow chuckled and waved her goodbye, telling her to have fun with the other kids.

Winter stalked out, dragging Cardin and others in tow. Her expression softened as the elevator descended.

“You have my apologies, Cardin,” she said. “I had been too late to properly assist you.”

Cardin waved the apology away. “It’s more than I expected. Thank you.”

Looking up at her nudged his memory. They had focused so much on what happened with the Seer, that he hadn’t said anything about Watts, including the first person to sit in that chair. He said it was a girl, and that they used Aura blockers.

The revelation hit him like a hammer. That sudden appendicitis, the glare Emerald sent Mercury when he mentioned his doctor arriving in Vale, the timing matched too perfectly. The frosty attitude, the sudden decision to head back to Atlas, and oh Brothers, she’s heiress of the SDC.

“We have to go back up.”

Winter shook her head. “They’re discussing important matters. We cannot interrupt them.” She sent a glare back up the elevator shaft.”

“I just figured out Watts’ first victim.”

Winter froze. “There was a first?”

“He mentioned it while he was trying to make me afraid. He never said who it was, but he gave me enough details that I can piece it together.” He looked up, unsure if he should continue. “We need to tell Ozpin.”

Winter’s hand hovered over the elevator, but she withdrew it. “Orders are orders. Tell me, and I’ll send a team to recover them.”

Cardin swallowed and cleared his throat. “It’s Weiss. They poisoned her with something that made it seem like she had an appendicitis, and they got her while she was under the Aura blockers. That’s why she wanted to go back to Atlas so suddenly.”

Winter had stopped breathing. The elevator door opened, but none of them stepped out.

“Are you sure about this?”

Cardin nodded. Winter hit the up button, but the elevator didn’t move. Winter dialed Ironwood’s number, but it went straight to voicemail.

“Damn!” Winter shouted, slamming her fist on the button. “We’ll fly up there! Break through the glass if we have to!”

As they raced outside, Cardin took out his Scroll and hit the power button. When it flashed to life, he found five missed calls from Klein. With a queasy stomach, he dialed up Weiss’ butler. The phone was answered before the first ring ended.

“Thank the Brothers, Cardin!” The butler’s voice was a panicked whisper. “I was worried I wouldn’t get to you in time.”

Keeping his voice down, Cardin asked, “What’s going on?”

“Jacques sent a ship to pick Weiss up. We’re driving there this very minute!”

Cardin grimaced and took a deep breath. “Is she alone?”

“Guards came for her. They have the Schnee logo, but I don’t recognize any of them.”

“I need you to listen to me, very carefully. I know what’s wrong with Weiss, and it’s very important that she doesn’t get on that Bullhead. I won’t be able to help her if she gets back to Atlas.”

“W-what should I do? We’re just a few minutes away!”

“Are you driving?”

“Yes. We’re in a limousine going north Morgan Street.

“Stall for time. Take a few wrong turns, or get in an accident. Whatever happens, make sure you remain by Weiss at all times. I’ll get her somehow.” He hung up and grabbed Winter by the shoulder. “We don’t have time. Weiss is leaving for Atlas right now.”

“What? So soon? Why haven’t I heard of this?”

“Probably because the secret about the Scarabs is out. They’re trying to get her out of Ozpin’s reach, so she can take over the SDC.”

Winter looked queasy at the prospect. She looked up at Ozpin’s office and asked, “What can we do?”

“Mobilize your troops and have them on standby. Make sure they can all keep a secret. I’ll call when we’re ready for them.”

“What about you?”

“It’s a long shot, but I have an idea.”

Cardin dialed Blake’s number. When she picked up, he said, “Hey, can you get Ruby on speaker? It’s an emergency.”


	41. Team Hostages

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m still a fair bit behind, but I’m gaining ground bit by bit. Within a couple weeks, I hope to be back to a chapter ahead.

\----------

“Absolutely not,” Blake said, scowling hard enough at Cardin to set his clothes on fire.

Cardin, for his part, returned an amiable smile and composed his voice with as much docility as he could muster. Ruby glanced at both of them, visibly torn on whether or not she should step in, while Yang lay back on her pillow, staring up at the bed above hers, seemingly lost in thought. Cardin’s teammates waited in the hall with Jaune’s dad.

“It’s the only way we’re going to get Weiss away from her escort without raising more questions than we can answer. If the White Fang kidnaps her, people are only going to wonder why there weren’t more people guarding her.”

“Do you expect me to fall for that? You’re just trying to get me arrested.”

“If I really wanted you behind bars, I’d have done it already.”

“What, you expect me to believe your little story of a Grimm crawling into Weiss’ brain? You lied to me over and over, and you expect me to believe you now? How stupid do you think I am?”

“I didn’t lie about the hospital, did I?”

Blake’s jaw clenched as she looked away. “How would we know? You could’ve had that girl lure us away.”

“If I really wanted to get into some shady private meeting, I would’ve just come alone.” He took a deep breath and tried to put a lid on his simmering anger. “Look. I’m only asking you because you’re already involved, and out of everyone on campus, you’re the only one I know isn’t working for Cinder. Not to mention, this is your teammate in danger.”

“If she wants to go back to Atlas, I’m not stopping her, and I know this is some kind of trap.”

Cardin shrugged. “Fine. Guess I’ll find some other Faunus to help me.”

Blake snorted. “Good luck. Not like there’s any Faunus at Beacon who’d help an asshole like you.”

The window slid open, and Sun clambered inside. “Pretending to be White Fang sounds like fun. I’m in.”

The monkey Faunus held out his hand for Cardin to shake. Suppressing his revulsion, Cardin clasped it firmly. “How long were you listening in on us?”

“I swung by around the part when Blake started shouting about not going around pretending to be White Fang. Why, what are we doing?”

“Great,” Cardin said, discreetly wiping his hand on his pants. “You’ll find out on the way. With that settled, all we need are some masks and robes.” He gave Blake an icy smile. “You wouldn’t happen to have some to spare, would you? It’d be great if we had enough for everyone, but two should get the job done.”

Blake pulled a chest out from under her bed. When she opens it, copies of scandalous literature, like Ninjas of Love and The Kinky Kata tumble out. She set piles of books aside and slid her fingers around the edge of the false bottom. Underneath, Cardin caught the glow of Dust crystals before she snapped it shut.

“Here,” she said, holding a stack of fake Grimm masks and a pile of clothing. “Will this be enough?”

Cardin sifted through the stack. She had half a dozen of varying patterns of red streaks, one with a long gash down the right side, another with a large chip at the top. She kept one for herself, a stark gray mask that appeared white in direct light, but it blended into the slightest shadow.

There were also four sets of White Fang uniforms, including one with red trim and glossier fabric. They came with adjustable straps to fit many sizes, but he could stretch out the shoulder enough to fit him. A couple had mended tears clumsily sewn over with black thread. Sun took one, and though the fabric was taut against his skin, he flexed his arms with ease. With the mask over his face, he could’ve fit in at any rally.

“Let’s go,” she said stiffly, making for the door.

Sun picked up one of the books and read the back cover. “I like your taste. Mind if I read some?”

Blake reddened and snatched the book away from him. While she was distracted, Cardin brought out the case and looked inside, with Ruby, and Yang gathering around to get a peek. Ruby went straight into a state of exuberance, gushing over the miniature arsenal Blake kept under her bed.

“Ooh, are these flashbangs filled with Lightning or Fire Dust? And is that a taser? What propellant does the grappling hook use?”

“Where did you get all this?” Cardin asked, holding up a phial of Gravity Dust. “This must’ve cost a fortune.”

Blake blushed and looked away. “It was part of shadowing the Huntsman.”

Cardin gave her a skeptical look. “And he let you keep it all?”

Blake grumbled. “Fine, it’s through Ozpin. Happy?”

“Can you get more?” Cardin asked.

“Well, yes, but–”

“What about a van? Something without a plate, no distinguishing features.”

Blake glanced around the room, at the crowd of curious and expectant faces around her. With a resigned sigh, she said, “Give me a minute.”

“Oh, and can you get your boyfriend? We might need him to patch us up if something goes wrong.”

Blake glowered at his choice of words, but she didn’t say anything more as she slammed the door behind her. Cardin rifled through her stash, marveling at the neatly stacked collection of stealth gear she had amassed, some of which would certainly raise eyebrows if he tipped off Goodwitch. He took a set of wireless radios, a handful of flashbangs, a vial of Ice Dust, the grappling hooks, both her tasers, an opaque glass bottle with a clean rag and warnings against accidental inhalation, and a long, sharp knife, with a sturdy tip meant to punch through metal. He put on one of the radios and passed the other to Sun.

A text came on his Scroll, from Blake, telling him to meet her at the docks. As Cardin and his allies filed out of the room, Yang put a hand on his shoulder.

“Hey, mind letting me tag along? I want to make sure Ruby doesn’t get in any trouble.”

“You’re under house arrest,” Cardin reminded her. “If you were spotted, our cover would be blown.”

“I bet I could fit in one of those suits, even if I am a bit bigger than Blake.” She stretched, making her chest stand out.

Cardin rolled his eyes at her and said, “That hair of yours won’t fit under a hoodie. Get a haircut, or you’re not coming.”

Yang gaped at him. Sun stepped in, saying, “You know, I bet that if we glued some feathers in her hair, we could pretend she’s a canary Faunus.”

The glare Yang sent at Sun made him back away a pace.

“I guess you’re right,” Yang said, looking down at the floor. “Just make sure Ruby doesn’t get hurt, alright?”

Cardin hesitated before nodding and heading after his teammates. At the door, he stopped next to Jaune’s father, who stood guard outside Yang’s room.

“You heard all that?”

“Kinda hard not to,” Nicholas said, ruffling his hair. “I wish I hadn’t.”

“If anyone asks, we were never here.”

When the Huntsman nodded, looking grimly at him, Cardin thanked him and hurried out of the building. He glanced nervously as he went, wondering how many people would see him leaving. If Cinder or her spies spotted him leaving with a large group of students, she might guess everything. He shuddered as the implications sunk in.

Blake had a Bullhead ready to take off, with Jaune and his teammates waiting in another. Nora and Ren had brought their own masks, along with white robes and black cowls that would’ve looked at home at a White Fang rally, and a set of nondescript assault rifles. Before Cardin could scold them for standing out, they both draped gray cloaks over themselves, hiding the offending articles of clothing. Pyrrha had left Miló and Akoúo̱ behind, and Jaune still didn’t have a replacement for Croeca Mors.

“Why are they tagging along?” Cardin asked Blake.

“They were there when I explained it to him. No way am I getting Nora to change her mind.”

Cardin eyed the new arrivals skeptically. “The more the merrier, I guess, but where did Nora get that stuff?”

Blake gave him a flat look that suggested he was better off not asking.

“Right,” he said, speaking softly enough to not be overheard by the pilots, “If anyone doesn’t want to be a part of the kidnap Weiss to keep a brain-snatching Grimm from taking over the SDC plan, now would be a good time to leave.”

Sun shouted “What, we’re really kidnapping Weiss?” at the same time Jaune stammered, “A Grimm? In her brain?”

“No time, just get in the Bullheads.”

To their credit, they loaded up and had the pilots take off without another word. Before hopping in one, he went to the other and had a quick word with the pilot, telling him not to say anything of their coming and going until they spoke with Ozpin. He gave the other pilot the same message and sat next to Sky and Russell. Ruby hopped in shortly after, while Blake and JNPR had the other Bullhead. Sun went towards Blake’s bullhead, but a sharp look from Blake, along with her hand on Jaune’s lap, sent the Faunus to Cardin’s ride.

“So, why the disguises?” Ruby asked, gesturing to the pile in Cardin’s lap. “Aren’t we going to get arrested?”

“Winter’s going to bring out the ‘White Fang members’ in body bags. If there’s some blood splashed around, no one’s going to check and make sure they’re dead. The hostages will be escorted back to Beacon by Winter’s Specialists, and Weiss will be brought to the Defender ‘for extra protection’. The whole point of going in as White Fang is to give Winter the pretense she needs to take custody of Weiss while keeping our involvement a secret.”

“That way, no one gets to take her to Atlas.” Ruby smiled and fidgeted with her hands. “Good. It’s so late in the year, I don’t know how we’d adjust to a new member.”

“You still might have to,” Cardin said grimly. “The Defender doesn’t have brain surgeons, and we can’t take her to a hospital.”

“Why not?” Ruby asked. Cardin gave her a level look, and she colored. “Oh, that’s why.”

“Yeah.” He studied her face, her eyes, a striking silver color unheard of despite the variety of pigments. “I have an idea, but I’ll need to confirm it with Ozpin first.”

Ruby looked uneasily at Cardin and his teammates as silence settled between them. After a moment, she asked, “So, did my uncle Qrow save you?”

“Wait, he’s your uncle? Do you have his number?”

Ruby held up her Scroll. “I already tried. Goodwitch too. They all have their Scrolls off.”

“We’ll just have to wait until they’re done,” Russell said. “So, which one of us will be playing White Fang?”

Cardin passed Blake’s suits and masks to Sky and Russell. Ruby looked away, blushing, as the guys stripped to their underwear and put on the White Fang outfits. He handed each of them a taser and gave Sun the flashbangs.

“Don’t use your regular weapons or Semblances,” Cardin warned them. “We don’t need anyone tracing this back to us.”

“What if the police show up?” Sun asked. “This isn’t Atlas, but I’m willing to bet they’ll shoot to kill.”

“Don’t kill any of them but drive them back. Shouldn’t be too hard, they don’t have Aura.”

Sun chuckled. “Right up my alley then.”

Cardin refrained from asking exactly what experience the Faunus had with police. He seemed too indifferent towards the White Fang clothes and mask to be a former member.

“What about the rest of us?” Ruby asked. “We don’t have enough White Fang uniforms.”

“We’ll be hostages. We can use the grappling hooks to make bindings. Try to look frightened if anyone is looking.”

Sun drew himself up with a feral grin, made even more menacing by his mask. “And if any of you spineless humans act up, I’ll kick you in the ribs. How’s that?”

“It might help if you actually kicked us around a bit for the cameras. Really sell the whole White Fang schtick. Just try not to hit the nose.”

Cardin felt at the implant, which was still loose on his face. With a growl, he realized he was going to have to get it fixed, again. As he breathed in, he could feel air getting past the implant, tickling the open passage through his skull. Trying not to imagine what kind of dust and bacteria could be settling on his brain, Cardin pressed the implant back in place. He held it down for a few seconds before letting go. The implant felt loose, but for the moment, the adhesive held. Maybe Junior knew a doctor that wouldn’t leave him at Cinder’s doorstep.

The loose implant brought back memories of the abandoned house, the chair and straps, the tentacle reaching for him, and the visions it brought. His head spun, and all the second, he was back on the Bullhead flying to Duke Orgen’s manor, his teammates wearing masks of fake smiles and kind words, thinking of suitcases packed with lien cards.

A hand on his arm jolted him back to reality. Russell was looking at him with a concerned expression. “Hey man, you weren’t looking so good. Is something wrong?”

Cardin brushed the hand away. His heart was galloping in his chest, and his breathing came in hoarse gasps. He clenched his hands and made his body relax. “It’s fine. Just got lost in thought.”

When their Bullhead touched down, Blake’s group pulled around the street with a rusting blue van.

“It’s a clunker, but I think this should do,” she said coldly. “Don’t think we can fit everyone.”

“We won’t have to. We’re splitting into two teams. The White Fang team will pursue Weiss’ car.”

“Which one is it?” Ren asked.

“Good question.” Cardin called Klein.

“We’re ready. How’s everything on your end?”

“I managed to get us stuck in a maze of one-way streets. I can buy you another five minutes.”

“Good. What kind of car are you in?”

“A limo in Schnee colors, can’t miss it. We’re just west of the airdocks, right off Main Street.”

“Thanks. We’re on our way.” He hung up and pointed at the students in White Fang uniforms. “Blake, Sun, Ren, Nora, Russell, and Sky, you’re the White Fang team. Head up main street, find the limo with Schnee colors on the off-streets, and snatch her out of there. Avoid using Aura and don’t kill anyone. Russell’s in charge.” He handed Russell a wireless radio. “The rest of us, we’re the hostages. We’ll pick out somewhere the other team can retreat to until Winter shows up.”

“So,” Sky asked, pointing at the mask on his face, “What if Weiss freaks out and doesn’t come with us, since, you know, the masks?”

He held out the vial of liquid at Blake. Recognizing it at once, she carefully tucked it in her pocket and glowered at him. He also passed her the knife, which she slipped around her belt.

“Don’t show yourselves to her. We can’t risk someone seeing you and reporting it. Just grab her and go.”

Team White Fang loaded up in the van, while Team Hostages went on foot, chatting idly and avoiding the eyes of the crowded streets. They drifted towards the docks, towards the row after row of warehouses, until they found a string of run-down buildings with boarded-up doors and do not enter signs. Cardin had the group skirt around the edge of the block, just out of sight of the cameras perched under the rooftops.

“Pyrrha, do you think you can take out those cameras?” Cardin asked, pointing at a building from the shadows of an alley.

Pyrrha held out her hand. The camera twisted backwards and bent until the lens was flush against the wall. She repeated the process with each camera he pointed out and a few he couldn’t see.

“That’s the last of them,” Pyrrha said, lowering her hand. “It’s hard to tell with all this metal around, but I think I also got the alarm system.”

“Wow, you can do all that?” Ruby asked.

Pyrrha blushed and looked away. “Yeah, well, it’s no big deal.”

“I’m pretty sure your Semblance is busted,” Dove said. “Atlas would be literally defenseless if you shut off all their Knights and Paladins.”

Her expression soured, but before the conversation could continue, Cardin directed them to the nearest of the warehouses. They checked each one before picking the second to last, a building with only one point of entry, which had a sliding set of heavy metal doors. Inside, there were row after row of steel shelves, some of which still held loops of metal cable on wooden dowels or crates of clamps.

“So, is there anything else your magic metal senses are picking up on?” Cardin asked.

“There’s a water line running right below the building,” Pyrrha said. “It’s pretty close to the surface. I think I can feel the water running through it.”

Cardin felt at the Dust phial in his pocket. Through the glass, he could feel it chilling his fingers. “Might be useful later. For now, push the shelves up against the walls, and save the heaviest two. We’ll use them to barricade the door once the others arrive.”

While Pyrrha went to work, Cardin explored the rest of the building with the others. There was a small table with a ring of dusty plastic chairs around them. The legs on two of them had rusted to the point that they snapped at the slightest pressure, but six more remained. Cardin kicked the table aside and gathered up the chairs.

“What, are we playing musical chairs?” Jaune asked nervously. “I don’t think we have a radio, but we could ask Nora.”

Ruby leaned over and whispered in his ear, “I think those are the hostage chairs.”

Cardin took out the grappling hooks and studied the cord, but he went back to a shelf Pyrrha hadn’t touched yet, coming back with a length of steel cable.

“No way,” Dove grunted, “I don’t want to know what rope burn from that stuff would feel like.”

“It won’t have to be that tight,” Cardin said, “And it’s not like the grappling hook cord would be much better. Plus, Pyrrha can actually wrench this stuff off us if necessary.”

“Fine, but can I at least have my Scroll?”

Cardin shook his head and Dove reluctantly stashed his Scroll in his pocket. Cardin brought the table back and had everyone put their Scrolls on there, saying they’d be the first thing any self-respecting kidnapper would take off them, having learned that first-hand just that afternoon.

Once Pyrrha was done with the shelves, he had them all sit down and had Pyrrha wind the cord around them. She fastened it in place with one of the clamps, so they all sat with their backs to each other, held to the chair by thick loops around their chests.

“Ugh, my nose itches,” Jaune said, struggling to bend over far enough to reach his hand. “Mind untying me for a minute?”

“Yeah, because if someone saw the bindings loosen so you could scratch your nose, no one would think that was weird.”

“Cardin,” Pyrrha asked, “Wouldn’t people think it was strange we were just sitting here tied up? There’s no guard or anything.”

“We could say they left us tied up.”

“When everyone knows I can move metal? I don’t think that would fly.”

“Not to mention,” Jaune added, “It’s a little weird since Weiss isn’t here yet.”

Cardin sighed and tried to rub his temples, only for his hands to come up far short. “Fine. We’ll wait until they get back.”

The clamp snapped open, and the cord fell limply to their legs. Cardin stretched his arms, and judging by the sighs around him, he wasn’t the only one.

“You doing alright?” Dove asked. “You seem out of it today.”

“Well, you tell me. No sooner than I make it out of Ironwood’s ship after getting my ribs smashed in, I get kidnapped at the hospital, have some maniac try to shove a Grimm up my nose, which, by the way, was tailor-made for the purpose during my last doctor’s visit, suffer through all my worst nightmares thanks to a different Grimm, nearly kill myself getting out of that chair, and now, I find out I have to stop Weiss from leaving the country or a Grimm will take over the SDC.”

“Wait, the White Fang tried to what?” Jaune spluttered.

“The White Fang?” Ruby asked. “If they’re behind it, then why are we pretending to be them?”

“I never even heard of a Grimm like that,” Pyrrha put in. “What do you mean by suffer through your nightmares?”

“Literally!” Cardin shouted. “I had a really lovely one of you smashing my face in with your shield, shouting at me for making you lose.”

Though he couldn’t see Pyrrha’s expression, he heard her chair creak as she stiffened.

“What else did you see?” Ruby asked.

Cardin craned his head to look at her. “Why do you want to know?”

She looked away from him and nervously rubbed her hands together. “Well, I mean, if it was something really horrible, talking about it might make you feel better. I know it might feel weird, talking about it, that people might think you’re weird or they won’t care, but when I finally started talking about mom, even when people ignored me or tried to make me stop, I felt better. So, you know, I’m willing to listen.”

The memories crept up on him, lurking in the corner of his mind. As he tried to force them back, he caught flashes of panicked running, restraints, and the irrational, mind-consuming need to bring the roof crashing down on him. With a start, he realized his Semblance had flared up and made it stop.

“You want to know how to make anyone do what you ask?” Cardin asked, voice hoarse as his throat tightened up. “Find out what they fear most and use it. Blake feared people finding out about her past, her secret, and I showed her that I could have her arrested at any moment. Yang’s afraid of her sister getting hurt. Threaten her, and Yang will do anything.” His chest shook, and tears stung the edges of his eyes, but he kept his emotions on a tight leash. “If you think I’m telling you any of that, you’re crazy.”

Ruby looked at him with an unreadable expression and said, “I’m afraid that I won’t be good enough to save someone, that there’ll be someone who I could have saved if I was only a little better at being a Huntress or a leader. I’m afraid that my team’s going to fall apart because I’m too young for this, that Blake’s going to run off again, or Weiss will leave because she’s tired of putting up with me, or – or Yang’s going to get locked away and I’ll never see her again.” She had to blink tears away, but she gave Cardin a smile and said, “There. Now you know mine.”

Before Cardin could respond, Jaune jumped in. “I’m also terrified that I’m not good enough, that I won’t ever amount to anything. I’m afraid people will find out I wasn’t supposed to get in and kick me out.” With a shudder, he added, “I don’t even want to think about what would happen if my mom came here. My dad was bad enough, but mom? Brothers no.”

Pyrrha spoke more hesitantly, but she took up the sharing session. “I’m afraid that people will use me my whole life for my strength. I have such a powerful Semblance, I can defeat almost anyone without trying.” She quickly glanced at Cardin before moving on. “I – I’m also afraid to talk about my feelings. If I had been honest with someone a lot sooner, I might’ve been a lot happier now, but instead, I have to watch that person be happy with someone else. Now, if I tried telling them, it would only make everything worse.”

Dove shifted in his seat. “You already know mine,” he said, eyeing the others warily.

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” Ruby said.

Against Cardin’s expectations, that loosened Dove’s tongue. “I’m worried Cardin’s dad is going to ruin my family if I do something I’m not supposed to.”

Cardin felt four pairs of eyes on him from around the circle of chairs. The very idea of divulging the visions the Seer had forced on him churned his stomach. Sweat rolled down his chin and soaked into his shirt. Looking to break the tension, Cardin spoke into the radio. “Well? Did you find her yet?”

The signal came back faint. “Finally!” Russell shouted through the static. “The range on these things is shit. You’re in the docks?”

“Second to last of the boarded-up warehouses.”

“Got it. We’re coming in hot, tons of cops on our tail. They were waiting for us.”

Cardin leapt from his chair, and the others did the same.

“Get everything ready,” Cardin told Pyrrha as he called Winter. And to himself, he said, “Please let this work.”


	42. Team White Fang

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was a ton of fun to write. It’s one of those ‘go nuts’ chapters that lets me put in whatever crazy ideas I have on the fly. And when Nora’s one of the passengers, it can get very wild.
> 
> As for my writing, I’m gaining ground bit by bit. I miss being a chapter ahead while posting these – it lets me patch continuity errors before they come into the story, or more importantly, it lets me sprinkle in details that can come up in a later chapter.
> 
> On the down-side, I managed to slice one of my fingers while cutting some green onions. It was a fairly deep slice, and it took a few minutes to stop the bleeding. Luckily, it healed up well, and it hasn’t interfered with my typing or work. Just have to keep it bandaged so I don’t do anything stupid with it by accident.

\----------

Sky took as many shortcuts through the early evening traffic as he dared, darting through gaps between cars and rushing through lights that earned the van a chorus of angry honking in its wake. With time running out, minutes if Cardin guessed right, Russell was tempted to forego the formalities of traffic laws altogether, but he sternly reminded himself that it wouldn’t be wise to start the police chase before they had Weiss in the back of the van.

Nora and Ren sat in the two back seats. Nora was rambling on about fighting for the White Fang cause and what they would do after they had the heiress to ransom while Ren nodded absently at the slightest pause in the torrent of words. Blake and Sun, sitting in the empty space near the van’s back doors, clung for dear life as every swerve of the car turned the loading space into a pinball machine.

“Any luck finding a good spot?” Russell asked, refraining from using Cardin’s name. Cheap radios could sometimes be overheard by others, for example, those the cops used. No reply came through the radio.

“They have pretty poor range,” Blake said coolly. “We probably won’t get a signal.”

Russell shot her a flat look. “You could’ve said that sooner.”

Blake shrugged and went back to hanging on for dear life.

Sky floored the gas pedal, but a car in front of him slowed for the yellow light, forcing him to stop. Russell looked ahead, grumbling in frustration as he hunted for the limo, but there was no sign of it in the cross-traffic. Up ahead, he could make out the low, wide building that was the main Bullhead airport. Behind it stretched a landscape of concrete, fences, and bright yellow lines. People hurried through the maze to their Bullheads, and larger transports hauled shipping crates onto the bigger freight aircraft. If they called in a bomb threat, they could ground all the Bullheads, but they’d have the number that called them. Winter might’ve been able to arrange something. Why hadn’t Cardin thought of that earlier?

The sudden silence, left as the engine no longer rumbled and popped with the effort to barrel through traffic, made Russell look anxiously behind him. Hoping to fill the silence, he asked Blake, “Why did you come along? You were completely against the idea before Sun showed up.” He raised an eyebrow at the Faunus pair. “Animal magnetism?”

Blake scoffed. “He wishes.” Sun shrugged at the rejection, but he seemed interested in the explanation as well. After a moment, when it became clear to everyone that Russell still wanted his answer, she said, “Does it matter?”

“Yes, it does.” Russell pointed at the mask he was wearing. “If anyone wanted us dead, these masks would give them the perfect excuse. Once everything gets crazy, it’ll be do or die for us. I’d rather not get shot to pieces because you bailed on us.”

Blake flinched at his words. She couldn’t meet his eyes, but she said, “I’m not going to run away.”

“Well? Then why are you here?” Russell studied her downcast expression. “You clearly don’t care about Weiss, and it’s not like you’re doing this for your team. You hate Cardin, and you only came along once it was clear he’d be carrying out his plan. So, either you care about Sun, or you’re spying on Cardin.”

Blake bit her lip. Taking a deep breath, she said, “Ozpin asked me to keep an eye on him.” She gave them a warning look. “And if Cardin is lying, if you do something evil, I will stop you.”

Russell laughed at that. “Evil? He’s a cold-hearted bastard, but not quite evil. The only reason I’m even along for this ride is I know he wouldn’t throw us away, not when we’re the only people he has any trust for.”

“But you’re all spying on him,” Blake pointed out.

“I never said he trusted us much. He knows who’s lining our pockets, and that’s the best he’s going to get.” He folded his arms and thought over what Blake had said. “Cardin knows you’re Ozpin’s spy, that’s why he trusted you. Alright then.” He shifted his gaze to Sun. “What about you? If anything, you’ve got even less reason to be here.”

“I saw him get rushed to the nurse’s office,” Sun said. “Nasty-looking wounds all over him. I hung around, thinking to ask him what happened, when I caught you all going to Yang’s room. I thought I’d have a listen.”

“And that’s when you popped through the window.”

“Pretty much. I kinda owe him for the docks, so I thought, why not?”

Russell held his gaze, but the confident smile on Sun’s face didn’t waver under scrutiny. The roar of the engine snapped his attention back to the road as Sky raced through the green light. Russell tried the radio again, but he still didn’t get an answer. He used his Scroll to text him, but he didn’t get an answer.

“Great,” Russell said. “How are we supposed to know where to go?”

“Ooh, I have an idea!” Nora pointed up at the ceiling. “If we have some Lightning Dust, I can just throw the car into the air, and you could look from up there!”

“Nora,” Ren said, “I don’t think that will work.”

“Well, we could try a power line if we’re out of Dust.”

“The van would break when it hit the ground.”

“Oh silly,” Nora said, “I’d catch it!”

As Nora reached for the door handle, Sky shouted, “Found them!”

The limousine was waiting at an intersection two blocks from the airport’s entrance. The light was turning yellow as they approached it.

“Go for it,” Russell said.

As the light turned red and the intersection cleared out, Sky drove onto the other side of the street, slammed the brakes, and cranked the steering wheel. The van slid to a stop with its rear within a couple feet of the limousine’s front bumper.

After Sky’s stunt driving had shaken them like dog toys, Blake and Sun struggled to get on their feet. Nora and Sky vaulted out of their seats, throwing the doors open and helping the two Faunus out of the van. Blake and Sun leapt onto the limo’s engine, much to the shock of the portly driver, and went onto the roof. Blake took out the knife and plunged it into the roof, cutting out a neat circle. Sun peered inside and found Weiss and her bodyguards.

“Surprise!” he shouted, pulling the pin on the flashbang and lobbing it inside. All three of the passengers were blinded by the sudden flash. While Weiss and her escort were stunned, Blake and Sun slipped inside, hauled Weiss up through the window, and dragged her down the limo’s front and into the van.

Once Weiss was inside, she looked at the masked faces, taking in her situation without a hint of fear or surprise on her face. Glyphs sprang around her, in a multitude of hues that threatened to tear the van and its occupants to scraps. Before any of them activated, Blake brought out the bottle, dipped the cloth in the clear, vaporous liquid, and pressed it to Weiss’ face. Her eyes widened and she clawed at Blake’s hand, drawing bloody furrows with her fingernails, but Blake kept a firm grip. After a few seconds, Weiss’ eyes rolled up, and she fell limp in her arms.

“Damn,” Sun said, “You keep that stuff on you?”

“Roll down the windows before we all pass out,” Blake told Russell. She put the anesthetic back in her pocket and pointedly looked away from Sun.

The tires squealed and the doors slammed shut as they made their getaway, driving back the way they came past bewildered and frightened bystanders. Their van bumped and skidded off other cars parked on the road, and a few cars had alarms blaring after they passed.

Without warning, police sirens sounded from all sides. From the alley up ahead, cop cars poured out onto the street. In the rear-view mirrors, Russell saw their retreat cut off as well.

“We’re boxed in!” Sky shouted. “I don’t think we can make it off-road.”

“We’ll have to go on foot,” Russell said. “Ram into the police line, and we’ll book it.”

As they accelerated, the doors swung open, and a file of policemen rushed out, carrying assault rifles. A hailstorm of bullets flew at them, cracking the bulletproof windshield and leaving sizable dents in the hood and rear door.

“We won’t make it,” Ren said. “They’ll tear us to pieces.”

“Ooh, pick me!” Nora shouted in a sing-song voice, waving her hand in the air. “I have an idea! Give me some tingly Dust and I’ll get us out of here.”

She held out her hand at Ren, who sighed and gave her a yellow vial. She crushed it between her fingers, and sparks raced up her arms. Her hair stood on end for a moment before drifting back to her shoulders.

“Buckle your seat belts!”

She flung the doors open, sprinted out into the gunfire, and wriggled underneath the idling van. The whole vehicle lurched forward as Nora heaved it into the air. With a manic yell, she hurled the car over the police line, sprinted past the wall of stunned cops, stole an officer’s cap as she went by, and caught the van as it came down. She ran with the vehicle for a few paces, set it on the ground, and hopped back in the van. She chuckled to herself as she jammed the stolen cap over her hood.

The vehicle’s occupants, except for Ren, were pale and visibly shaken by their unexpected flight. It took a renewed barrage of gunfire to get Sky to hit the gas pedal.

“They were waiting for us,” Russell said as they drove away. Flashing sirens announced police pursuit as they made their way back towards Cardin. “Cinder must’ve tipped them off.”

Sky’s hands were shaking on the wheel. “Does that mean the police know who we are?”

“I don’t think so,” Russell said, “Otherwise they wouldn’t be shooting to kill.”

Blake slammed a fist on the side of the van hard enough to leave a dent. “You don’t think so? What, you’re just hoping we’re not all screwed thanks to Cardin?”

“Cardin gains nothing if we’re all arrested,” Russell pointed out. “This isn’t his doing.”

More gunshots pinged off the rear doors. A few shots sounded dangerously close to their wheels. Sky swerved back and forth, darting around cars and dodging gunfire.

“Can you try shaking them off?” Russell asked behind him.

Ren drew up his gun and said, “Leave it to us.”

They threw open the doors and fired out behind him. The rounds flew off the cars without leaving a dent, but the cars at the front of the pack swerved to avoid the shots, and one officer dropped his gun after a round whacked him in the head.

“Rubber bullets?” Russell asked.

“Nora’s idea,” Ren said. “Something about being able to shoot more people if the rounds bounced everywhere.”

Another blockade started ahead of them, but Sky gunned the engine and drove in the opposite lane, clipping the front of a cop car just before they closed off the street.

“Looks like that’s the last of them,” Russell said as he watched the streets ahead for more cops. “Sky, head for the docks. Cardin should be in there somewhere.” He tried the radio again, but nothing happened.

Out from over the buildings, three Bullheads swooped over them. One hovered from a safe distance, training a camera at their van, while the other two leveled machine guns at them. Nora and Ren slammed the van door shut just in time for heavy caliber fire to turn the thick metal into swiss cheese. One of the tires popped, and Sky frantically cranked the wheel to keep the van from swerving onto the sidewalk.

“We’re getting torn to shreds!” Sky shouted. “If anyone has any ideas, now would be a great time!”

Russell rummaged through the gear Cardin had given him, but Blake was a step ahead. She pulled several small, black balls out of her pocket, snapped a tab on the top, and hurled them out the holes in the rear door. Smoke billowed up in their wake, engulfing the two Bullheads. They banked up, climbing out of the smoke, but one Bullhead clipped the other, and they both spun out of control. One Bullhead careened into a building and slid to the ground, but the other righted itself and continued the pursuit.

“I really hope no one died in that,” Russell said as he rolled down the window and looked back at the downed Bullhead. He jerked back inside as bullets tore off the sideview mirror. “Any nonlethal ideas for that one?”

“Hey Blake,” Sun said, “Got any more smoke?”

“Plenty,” she said, drawing out another handful. “You have an idea?”

“I’ll use my Semblance once the smoke is up. That way, no one will see, right?”

Blake threw more smoke. Once the cloud thickened, two glowing copies of Sun crowded the rear. Sun and his clones clambered on top of the van, and the two clones served as springboards for Sun to reach the cockpit. He punched through the glass, wrenched the control stick to the side, and leapt away as the other Bullhead flew down an alley. As the Bullhead leveled itself out, its engines got stuck against the buildings, roaring uselessly as they struggled to push past the brick walls.

The cop cars had faded in the distance, obscured by lingering smoke. The fallen Bullhead had blocked half the street, and the cars had to backtrack to turn onto the other side of the road. Russell and Sky exchanged high-fives as they coasted towards the warehouses.

“Perfect. If we can find Cardin, Winter can swoop in before anyone’s the wiser.”

As he said this, movement on the road caught his eye. A man, wielding an enormous sword, trotted onto their path. He crouched, readying his sword for a downward slash. The meridian cut the van off from the other side of the road, forcing them into the Huntsman’s path. Nora and Ren leaned out the windows, firing everything they had at the Huntsman, but the rubber rounds bounced off his Aura.

Well before they came in range of the sword, the Huntsman struck. His blade sank into the street. Neat cracks carved a perfect square in the pavement. As the van rolled onto the square, the pavement heaved up and turned to the side, flipping the van. The van rocketed forward, flew off the concrete, and spun in the air.

Ren and Nora exchanged a nod. Ren snatched a grappling hook and fastened it to the back seat while Nora wrenched one of the doors off the van. They both leapt out the back, Nora sprinting with superhuman speed alongside the van, turning it upright with her hands, while Ren plnated his feet on the door rode it on the twisting asphalt. Sparks bounced off the pavement as paint and metal scraped off on the rough surface.

Nora carried the van over the meridian, setting the van on the other side of the road. Ren leaned out, forcing the grappling hook to stay taut. The stoplights up ahead threatened to snag the cord, leaving him with a second to jump over the meridian. The lashed out with his sword, aiming for Ren’s chest, as he skated up to him. Ren sprang up, lifting the door with his feet. The sword slashed through the bottom half, missing Ren’s heels by an inch. The door slammed into the Huntsman’s face, and Ren pushed off him, tugging hard with his arms. He flew over the meridian, glanced off the stop lights’ post, and landed on the other side. Nora pulled him in, and Ren fell to the floor, gasping for breath.

“We are never,” Ren said between coughs and wheezes, “Doing that again.”

“Why not? That was so much fun! Hey, can I do the skateboard thingy next time?”

Too exhausted to argue, Ren said, “Whatever you say Nora.”

Russell watched the Huntsman in the rear windows. He picked himself off the ground and dusted off his armor, but he didn’t make a move to chase them. “Keep an eye out. Odds are there’ll be more where that came from.”

His words proved prophetic, as they hadn’t gone a block before a high caliber round tore through the roof at an angle. Sun’s Aura took the hit and broke, and the round tore through his thigh. He sank to the floor, clutching his bleeding leg, while Blake tore off a strip of her uniform and tied it around the wound. Sky swerved right, trusting the buildings to cover them, but another round came from the other direction, ripping apart Ren’s headrest.

“Evasive action!” Russell shouted. “Brace your Aura!”

Sky wrenched the wheel left and right, swerving in and out of lanes. More rounds broke the ground around them, and one shattered the windshield, but they arrived at the docks without another injury.

“You know,” Sun said through gritted teeth, “I’m having second thoughts about cruising around in a White Fang uniform.”

Blake pushed harder on the wound, making Sun yelp. “Just hold on, we’re almost there. Jaune can get you patched up.”

Stray wooden pallets and abandoned crate tops crunched underneath their wheels as they raced through the docks. Russell tried the radio again, but no answer came from Cardin.

“Well?” Blake asked. Her hands were dripping with Sun’s blood. “Where the hell is he?”

“How much range do these things have?”

“I don’t know, a hundred feet maybe?”

“Seriously? We might as well shout at each other!”

“They’re made for battery life, not range. Just find him before more Huntsmen show up.”

As if on cue, a heavy thud came from the roof. A spear jabbed through the top, hitting Nora in the shoulder. Her Aura held, and she grabbed the spear, pulling it through the roof. It turned to dust in her fingers, and another one followed, this one just missing the tip of her nose.

Russell looked back, and Nora nodded at him. He gestured for Blake’s dagger, and she tossed it to him. They both opened their doors. Nora swung up first, kicking at the Huntress’ legs with both feet. While she was distracted, Russell clambered up the side and jabbed the knife at the Huntress’ back. Aura flared up, knocking the blow aside. Two spears materialized in her hands, and she spun in a circle, lashing out with both spear-tips. Russell ducked, while Nora grabbed a weapon and flung the Huntress aside. She tripped over a bullet hole, rolled, and fell to the pavement.

As they raced away, she hurled more spears at them. One popped the last rear tire, and another buried itself in Ren’s seat, striking his Aura in the back. Russell nearly fell off the van as it lurched back, slowed down by the lack of rear tires.

The wail of police sirens grew louder, and bright flashes of color spun on the concrete docks. Russell peered back in time to see squad cars flood the docks. A few guns poked out of windows, firing at them. Bullets rang off the concrete, but none found their mark.

Russell and Nora swung back into the van. “Any way we can block off the docks? They’ll catch up at this rate.”

Everyone looked around the van, but no one had any answers. Russell gripped his seat, making the leather creak. “Keep firing. We can’t let them catch us.”

“We’re running out of bullets,” Ren said. “We should save them.”

Russell growled to himself and tried to think as the van lurched forward, dragged back by its rear bumper. As he was about to give up, Cardin’s voice crackled in Russell’s ear. “Well? Did you find her yet?”

“Finally!” Russell shouted into the radio. “The range on these things is shit. You’re in the docks?”

“Second to last of the boarded-up warehouses.”

“Got it. We’re coming in hot, tons of cops on our tail. They were waiting for us.”

Russell grinned back at the passengers. Ren and Nora gave him weary smiles, while Blake frowned distrustfully at the approaching warehouse. Sun, white-faced and shaking, added another strap of clothing to his makeshift bandage.

“I think that was a whole team after us,” Russell said.

“If that’s the case, shouldn’t there be a fourth?” Ren asked.

“Please don’t say that. We’re almost there!”

Sky hammered the gas pedal, pushing the van through the last stretch of docks. The doors to the warehouse were flung open, and the darkness beyond invited them in.

A fiery rock fell from above. Sky slammed the brakes, and the rock crashed through the engine, scattering bits of metal all over. Russell and Sky threw their hands up, blocking the shrapnel with their Aura.

“Move move move!” Russell shouted as smoke filled the vehicle. Ren and Sky grabbed Weiss, Blake and Russell took Sun, while Nora fired the last of her bullets at the nimble figure sprinting along the other warehouses’ rooftops. The assailant leapt to the ground, scooped chunks of concrete out with her bare hands, and flung them in a blazing barrage. Nora leapt aside and kept firing until the gun clicked empty. She snatched Ren’s, but the ammo died out before they made it back in.

“Pop some smoke, hurry!”

Blake fumbled for her smoke bombs, but she couldn’t reach them and carry Sun at the same time. At a nod, Nora rushed over and took over for her. Blake threw smoke, obscuring them from the Huntsman. More burning rocks shot through the smoke, but they missed their mark.

Tires squealed as cop cars rushed to a stop within firing range of the warehouse. Risking a look back, Russell saw them forming a firing line, aiming squarely at them. He shouted, urging everyone through the last steps through the door. Just a little further… almost there…

The doors slammed shut as a head-sized boulder flew in, missing Sky by a foot. The rock skidded off the concrete floor and broke off into glowing pieces. A wall of shelves flew to block the door, which was buckling under heavy blows. Bullet holes perforated the surface, and with a sweep of her hand, Pyrrha barred them with metal plates.

“Get Jaune over here, hurry!” Russell shouted, gesturing at Sun. Cardin rushed forward, dragging Weiss over to the chairs, while Jaune pressed his hands to Sun’s wound. Within seconds, the color returned to Sun’s face, and he stood up on his leg, testing his weight on it.

“What the hell happened out there?” Cardin asked.

“They were waiting for us. Cop cars came out of nowhere, and they had a whole Huntsman team in ambush.”

“Then we don’t have much time.” He called Winter’s Scroll, and the moment she answered, he hissed for her to be quiet. He told her where they were and how to get it in, taking care to phrase it as though he were a hostage, taking advantage of his captors’ distraction to get a call out. Winter, picking up on the deceit, told him to stay on the line until she arrived.

Cardin signaled for everyone to be quiet and pointed at his Scroll, which lay on the table. Dove nodded and stood up straight. “Alright, everyone, fan out, and be ready. It won’t take them long to break through, but if we can just hold out until he gets here, we’ll beat those Atlas-hugging bastards. How’s our ammo?”

He nodded significantly to Russell, who said, “We’ve got enough for a few minutes, some more smokes, and a few flashes. Our Aura’s pretty beat up.”

“Right. Get behind cover and make them pay for what they did to us. I’ll keep an eye on the prisoners.” Dove walked over and stared down at the Scroll. “Hey! Who the hell are you calling?” He picked it up, read the name, and smashed the Scroll on the ground. Both Dove and Cardin made sure the Scroll was dead before speaking.

“Did you really have to break it?” he asked.

Dove shrugged. “I was going for realism.”

Cardin felt at his nose. The implant was coming loose again, and he could feel a chill creeping through the gap. “Crack me one in the face, would you? Might as well make it look convincing.”

“You sure?” Dove asked as he cocked back his fist.

“I need a new implant anyways. Go nuts.”

Pain blinded him as Dove’s fist cracked him in the face. Though the implant didn’t break, blood spurted from his smashed nose, and he felt the implant tear away. His nose hung limply to the side, dripping blood onto his shirt.

Dove and Jaune helped Weiss into a seat, while Ruby and Cardin took seats. Pyrrha bound them up, while the ragged band of White Fang fakes took positions behind cover.

“Any idea when they’ll be here?” A loud thump shook the door. “It better be soon, or we’re screwed.”

Pyrrha pushed on the doors, holding them steady under the barrage. More bullets rang off the wall, some punching all the way through, but all at once, they stopped. A loud crash came from overhead as the roof flew apart. Specialists in white uniforms rappelled down from a Bullhead and drew guns as they landed. Shots rang around them, punching holes in the walls. The White Fang fakes dropped their weapons and hit the ground as the Specialists fired around them.

The Bullhead descended through the ruined rooftop, touching down as Pyrrha cleared away the debris. As the loading ramp swung down, Winter strode out, flanked by two more Specialists.

“If I had known it was going to be this bad,” she said, “I would have taken her myself.”

Cardin sighed and swept his gaze over the students that had followed him. Even as fear gnawed at him, fear of the unknown repercussions of this rash act, he felt a rush of relief, seeing that they hadn’t betrayed him yet.


	43. Consequences

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’ll be hosting a birthday party for a friend in a couple weeks, so that should be fun. I’m making the cake, pizza, snacks, and probably other stuff. Good thing I have vacation during the week leading up to it or I don’t know how I’d have time to clean up my apartment and get the food ready. Oh, and get some plates and cups, shuffle around the furniture, and whatever else I’ll forget until someone at the party comments on it. 
> 
> …maybe it wasn’t a good idea to volunteer my place for a party.
> 
> In any event, I’m still chugging along with this story. I got over half a chapter done in one night, which felt awesome, but I’m still not back to where I’d like to be. Hopefully that’ll change in a few weeks.

\----------

A medic came down with blood bags, sloshing a generous amount on each one of the robe-clad students. Another brought the body bags, and the Specialists quickly gathered up the fake corpses, taking staged photos and leaving generous puddles of blood as evidence of the mock battle.

As the body bags were brought up, Winter walked down and went to her sister. She helped another Specialist carry her on board. The cramped confines had no room for a bed, but they laid her along a couple seats and strapped her in place. The Specialists and the remaining students walked up the ramp and took seats along the sides of the aircraft, while the body bags were laid out towards the front. The seats were cramped, but well cushioned, and the climate was pleasantly cool inside the cabin.

Thick belts wrapped around his arms and chest, binding him in place that made him recall the chair in the abandoned house. A hellish landscape of Dust pillars and roiling black liquid appeared before him, and he felt the Bullhead spin around him.

“Despite everything that has happened,” Winter said, snapping him out of the reverie, “I can’t thank you enough.” She took off her coat and laid it over Weiss. “I’ve already spoken with Klein to confirm what you had said.” She smiled and added, “He was in quite a panic over Weiss being scooped up by the White Fang.

“Oops.” Cardin shrugged. “Probably best I never told him the plan.”

Winter looked down and stroked her sister’s hair. “So, what now? There’s still that tracker on her, right?”

Cardin glanced at the other Specialists, who watched with open curiosity. “We’ll figure it out on board the Defender. If I’m right, Ozpin will have an idea.” He glanced at his Scroll, but he didn’t have any missed calls. “Speaking of, has Ironwood gotten in touch yet?”

“They’re still shut up in the tower,” Winter said, “But I sent another Bullhead to get their attention. It shouldn’t be more than a few minutes.”

As the Bullhead flew up towards the Atlesian flagship, Winter’s Scroll rang. Cardin’s came a moment later, from a number he didn’t recognize.

The moment he answered, Ozpin’s voice came from the other end. “What happened?”

Cardin told him what had happened since they had left the elevator. The Headmaster grunted and said, “We’ll talk on the Defender.”

Before Cardin could ask anything, the line went dead. He saved the Headmaster’s contact information and looked around at the rest of the passengers.

“I guess thanks are in order,” he said, pitching his voice so it could be heard over the whine of the Bullhead’s engines.

“You bet they are!” Sun shouted from one body bag. “Do you have any idea how bad it smells in here!”

“Sorry about that,” Winter said. She nodded to the Specialists, and they unzipped the other students. Russell and the others stripped out of the blood-soaked and perforated uniforms, but red spots stained the clothes underneath.

“We’ll get fresh clothes from your rooms before you leave,” Winter said, “And we can compensate you for whatever was lost.”

“Uh, thanks?” Sky said hesitantly, grimacing at the stains on his shirt.

“What now?” Jaune asked. “We’re going to fix Weiss, right?” He glanced uncertainly at the Specialists around him. “The thing, you know, right?”

Both Cardin and Winter glared at him, while the Specialists around them pretended not to listen. In a frosty voice, Winter said, “We will arrive at the Defender in a few minutes. Once we are in a secure location, we will discuss what to do next.”

“Right.” Jaune was turning a brilliant shade of green as turbulence shook the Bullhead. “Is there a bathroom on this thing?”

Winter pointed towards the front. Jaune tore the belts off himself and sprinted over the body bags.

“Does he get air sick every time?” Winter asked.

“Yep.” Nora took a brown paper bag out of a pocket. “That’s why I never leave home without these. One Bullhead trip covered in vomit is enough for me, thank you very much.”

“I still haven’t gotten the smell out of those clothes,” Ren muttered.

When they arrived at the Defender, the empty body bags were carried off by several Specialists, while the students were escorted to a conference room near the bridge. The Specialists brought protein bars and a pitcher of water before leaving. Winter took a seat near the head of the table, saving two spots. Everyone else took seats and helped themselves to the snacks. Cardin bit into one and nearly popped his jaw trying to chew the tough, stringy bar.

Winter set her Scroll on the table and said, “For the purposes of maintaining appearances, I’m going to have to take a statement from you to corroborate our story.” She pressed a button, and the recording began. “Cardin, could you please describe how you and your classmates were abducted by the White Fang?”

Cardin, who had the trip to the warehouse and the flight up to come up with a good cover story, told how he and his companions had left to see Weiss off at the airport. Ambushed after they got off the Bullhead and threatened with a gun to the head at his nose, Cardin claimed he and his companions had no choice but to follow them in the warehouse. While they were distracted by the return of the van, he called Winter, and then they got rescued.”

Winter stopped the recording. “Good. I was wondering how you’d explain your lack of resistance. Even one of you would be enough to take out most White Fang.”

Jaune stood up and stared down at Cardin, the queasiness he had shown on the Bullhead replaced by a firmly set jaw and piercing gaze. “Right. Now that we’re all here, can you please explain what the hell is going on? You dragged us all out to kidnap Weiss, get chased by the police and professional Huntsmen, and now we’re waiting on the Atlas flagship for General Ironwood and our Headmaster.” He pulled at his hair and strode back and forth behind his chair. “I mean, we just committed a crime, right? We kidnapped Weiss!”

“We rescued her,” Cardin insisted, “And you’ll know what you need to know once Ozpin gets here.”

“Jaune has a point,” Ren said. “That was the craziest thing I’ve ever done, and I live with Nora.” Nora nodded enthusiastically at that and put in, “I’ve never seen him use a door for a skateboard before. Wish I thought of that earlier.”

“And let’s not forget,” Sun said, pulling his leg onto the table, “That I got shot. Broke right through my Aura and everything.”

Cardin peered at the hole in his jeans. “Looks fine to me.”

Sun snorted. “That’s because Jaune fixed me up.” He slapped a hand on Jaune’s shoulder. “Thanks for that, by the way.”

Jaune, who nearly fell over from the slap, stammered, “Uh, anytime.”

“Guys, can we focus?” Ruby asked. She cleared her throat and looked awkwardly at the ten pairs of eyes that swiveled towards her. “Uh, Cardin, what we’re all trying to say is, we know you had a good reason for doing what you did.” Blake crossed her arms and glared at her. “Well, most of us. Anyways, we know you’re trying to help, but what happened back there was, well crazy. We had police and Huntsmen shooting at us, and for a second, I was scared those Specialists were actually going to shoot Blake.”

Winter frowned at her. “Why would we do that?”

Blake’s bow dipped, and she looked away. Ruby hastily continued, “The point is, we need to know what’s going on. We can’t just go along with whatever you say without knowing why we're doing anything.”

“Sometimes,” Winter said, “We don’t get to know. We’re trusted with a mission without being told why we’re doing it, and we have to trust our commander in turn. There are secrets that only a few people can know, secrets I know Ironwood has, secrets he won’t tell me. He tells me to escort Cardin and protect him, even though I don’t know why he’s a target or why Ironwood wishes him protected. If I needed to know, he would tell me, otherwise, we have to trust them.” She reached over and put a hand on Ruby’s shoulder. “It’s one of the hardest parts of being a soldier, or a Huntress. We don’t get to see the big picture, only the mission.”

Ruby wavered under Winter’s lecture. “But – but still, what we did was against the law, right?”

Winter sighed and studied Cardin. “Laws exist to protect people. If they must be broken for the greater good, then so be it.”

Blake slammed her hands on the table. “Look. I’m tired of getting dragged around by your schemes. If you don’t tell us what you’re doing, I’m coming clean with all of it.”

Cardin snorted. “Who are you going to tell?”

“Whoever would listen.” She took out her Scroll and played a recording on it. Everything from the moment he started explaining what had happened to Weiss echoed over the speakers. As Cardin listened, he felt every muscle go tense as a drawn bowstring. When she stopped the recording, she smirked at Cardin. “How does it feel?”

Winter drew a rapier and pointed it at Blake. Glyphs sprang up around both of them, and from them grew tiny silver Nevermore that circled over Blake’s head. She went pale and reached for her own weapon, but her hand closed around empty air.

“I can’t let you leave with that,” Winter said.

“What, are you really going to kill me?”

“We could claim that you were a White Fang agent and had betrayed Beacon. We could even use the same body bag.”

At that moment, the door opened. Ozpin walked in first, taking in the rapier and the swirling Nevermore with a glance. Ironwood came in after, with a firm glare at Winter.

“Put that away. We don’t draw weapons against children.”

Winter obeyed with shaking hands. “Sir, this ‘child’ was planning to expose the whole operation, including the classified Grimm.”

Ozpin raised an eyebrow at Blake, who shrank back into her chair. Ozpin held out his hand. Without a word, she passed her Scroll over to Ozpin, who deleted the offending recording.

“Now that we have that out of the way,” Ozpin said, “Why don’t we start with a full account of what happened? Cardin, the floor is yours.”

Cardin gave a brief outline of his sudden epiphany, his attempts at contacting Ozpin and Ironwood, and his plan to extract Weiss. Once he reached the end of his account, Russell stepped in, providing the details of their operation, down to the Huntsmen that had attacked them and how quickly the police had swarmed in. Both Ozpin and Ironwood listened without a visible gesture.

Ironwood nodded. “About what we expected from the news reports.” At the students’ shock, he added, “Yes, your little stunt has already made the five-o-clock news. Two damaged Bullheads, one demolished warehouse and other numerous instances of property damage, sixteen injured police officers, and one bruised and bemused Huntsman.” He punctuated the last with a wry smile at Ren.

“And let’s not forget,” Ozpin added, “The increased fear and paranoia in the general public roused by the most recent crime committed by the White Fang, who has already taken credit for your stunt.”

“That was fast,” Cardin muttered.

“Too fast,” Ozpin agreed. “But that’s besides the point. My point is, this operation that you have undertaken without my authorization and in full disregard of the law and the consequences of your actions has done far more harm than good.”

Cardin started up on his feet. “They knew we would be after her. Why else would they hurry her out of the country? They wanted her in Atlas so they could be sure to take over the SDC.”

“Did she have to be in Atlas for that?” Ozpin asked.

“They would need an assassin–”

“And they could use whoever they please.”

“Weiss would have the most opportunities,” Cardin countered. “Jacques wouldn’t expect her to kill him.”

“True,” Ozpin said, “But we could have warned Jacques of the danger. All it would take is one call at the CCT.”

“And if he didn’t believe you?”

“He trusts me enough,” Ironwood said. “Ozpin is right, Cardin. You should have waited for us before making any moves.”

“Do you really think that would’ve been wise?” Cardin asked. “They were ready for us. They meant to make sure Weiss went to Atlas, do you think they didn’t have every move after then already thought out?”

A knock came at the door. A Specialist walked in, holding a steaming mug. Ozpin held out his hand, and the man brought it over. Once they were alone again, Ozpin took a sip and cringed. “James, what is this?”

“Atlesian Black. It’s the only coffee we have.”

Ozpin set the mug on the table and pushed it away from him. “You owe each and every one of my taste buds an apology. I haven’t had a worse cup of coffee in my entire life.”

Ironwood’s eyebrows rose. “I’ll take it into consideration.”

Ozpin chugged a glass of water and wiped his mouth on a handkerchief. “Now that that’s over, back to your point, Cardin. You are most certainly right, and had she left, it may have sealed the fate of the SDC. However, we don’t know that for certain. There would have been plenty of time to form a plan to protect Jacques and/or recover Weiss. By acting in haste, you committed all of us to an irreversible course. The consequences of what had happened today will plague us for years, if not longer, as tensions rise towards the Faunus, as the SDC uses this event as an excuse to commit further atrocities and the White Fang rallies around this blow against the Schnee family.”

“You think a Grimm running the SDC would go any better?”

“We could have imposed bans and curtailed the SDC’s power,” Ironwood said.

Cardin scoffed. “You really think they couldn’t bribe their way out of that?”

“We can play this game all day,” Ozpin said. “Going back and forth with what-ifs until the world burns around us. The fact remains, you went behind our backs and broke the law.”

“We wouldn’t have if you had kept your Scrolls on!” Cardin countered. “We tried calling all of you!”

Both Ozpin and Ironwood frowned at that. “We didn’t,” the General said. “I always keep my Scroll on.”

Cardin held up his own Scroll, showing them his call history. Ruby brought her own out, adding her calls to Goodwitch and Qrow to the pile.

“I see,” Ozpin said, “But this changes nothing. You will all need to be punished for this. Off the books.” He glanced at Sun. “And while I recognize I’m technically not your Headmaster, Mr. Wukong, I would appreciate it if you took responsibility for your actions.”

Sun smirked and held his hands behind his head. “Good luck with that.”

Ozpin sighed and continued. “I am organizing a soup kitchen in a poor Faunus district. Students from Beacon will be invited to participate.” He gave each student a stern stare. “I’m asking all of you to help. Asking, because this incident must remain off the records.”

“And if we refuse?” Cardin asked.

“Then I will have no choice but to expel you.” To Cardin, he added, “In your case, I will also invite Duke Orgen over to dine.”

Cardin felt the blood drain out of his face. “You wouldn’t.”

The Headmaster smiled at him. “I know the usual methods of discipline will have no effect on you. It’s part of the reason why I haven’t tried to curb your undesirable behavior thus far. In this instance, however, I am willing to resort to drastic measures for your obedience.”

“You realize that’s tantamount to murder.”

Every pair of eyes in the room darted over to Ozpin. He stood calm in the face of their scrutiny. “Allowing you to do what you wish is also tantamount to murder. I can only imagine the number of Faunus killed in the wake of this incident, and the number of humans killed by the White Fang in retribution. I will do what I have to, Cardin.”

Cardin growled under his breath. “Fine. How long and how often?”

“As long as I see fit to run it, or until your graduation, whichever comes first. As to how often, three hours, twice a week, from five to eight.”

Cardin wilted under the lost time. Looking around, he saw he wasn’t alone in his misery. Russell looked ready to hit someone, and Dove gave both him and the Headmaster sour glares. Jaune looked resigned as well. Ren was apathetic as ever while Nora bounced in her seat, Pyrrha and Ruby gave the Headmaster uneasy smiles, and Blake grinned at him as though she had been given a bathtub full of cream.

“If that’s what you want,” Sun said, “Then sure, I’ll pitch in. Sounds like fun.”

Cardin rolled his eyes. “If that’s out of the way, can we get to the part where we cure Weiss?”

The Headmaster and the General exchanged glances. “We will do our best,” Ironwood said, “But we cannot guarantee success. For now, I ask that all of you return to Beacon. Winter will escort you there and answer any questions the press may have.”

“All of us?” Cardin asked. He felt his hackles rise. His hand brushed against his Scroll, and he started recording. “Including Ruby?”

Cardin watched the Headmaster carefully, looking for any trace of the secret he suspected was kept from them all. Ozpin’s eyes narrowed, taking in Cardin with sudden suspicion, but the General seemed confused. “I understand if she would like to remain by her teammate, but we’re working with an unknown Grimm. We do not wish any of you to be at risk during the operation.”

“And what about Jaune? The whole reason I brought him along was to help Weiss.”

Ironwood froze up, but Ozpin took up the slack. “Aura will be of little use in brain surgery, and Jaune’s Semblance is too valuable to risk.”

Jaune planted his hands on the table and rose. “I don’t care. If it will give Weiss even the tiniest chance of living, I’ll do it.”

Again, Ozpin and Ironwood looked uneasily at each other. “I appreciate your enthusiasm,” Ozpin said, “But these are orders. Return to Beacon, have dinner, and get some sleep. We will let you know in the morning how it went.”

While the other students exchanged worried mutters, Cardin locked eyes with Ozpin. The Headmaster tensed, expecting his verbal attack.

“You plan to kill Weiss, don’t you?”

The students stared at him in shock, his own teammates included. Ironwood flinched, but Ozpin feigned a disgusted expression. “We would never–”

Cardin turned to Ironwood and asked him, “Did Ozpin ever tell you how those Grimm in Mount Glenn were turned to stone?”

Ozpin’s expression darkened, yet more proof Cardin was on the right track, and Ironwood studied his colleague with open curiosity. “One of the freight cars carrying Dust exploded in the vicinity.”

Cardin nodded significantly to Ruby and Blake. Ruby looked confused, but she said, “There wasn’t a Dust car there. They were all gone by the time it happened.”

Blake added, “There was a flash of white light, and all the sudden, the Grimm were frozen, including the one that was about to kill me. Its claws were inches away from my back.”

Ironwood frowned. “If it wasn’t Dust, then what was it?”

Ozpin examined the room’s occupants and drummed his fingers on the table. “Mr. Winchester, I don’t know what kind of wild speculation you have been spinning in your head, but I assure you, I know nothing beyond what you and Team RWBY have told me.”

“If that wasn’t the case,” Cardin countered, “You wouldn’t have lied to General Ironwood about the cause of the Grimm petrification.”

Ironwood studied Cardin’s words carefully before fixing a steely frown on Ozpin. “He’s right. It couldn’t be Dust, not with the students so close to the Grimm, and not with the Dust cars well out of sight, as Ruby and Blake testify. It would also appear to me that I never heard their accounts of what happened, except from you.”

Ozpin clenched his hands and took a long, deep breath. “Fine. I’ll humor you then, Cardin. If it wasn’t the Dust, then what happened to those Grimm? I would like to know as much as everyone else in the room.”

“You already knew. In fact, you knew at least before this year started, if not even sooner. Perhaps you’ve been keeping an eye on her for her whole life. Why else would you let her into Beacon two years early?”

Ruby swallowed nervously as she received everyone’s attention. “M-me?” she squeaked. “What about me? What did I do?”

Ozpin ground his teeth and adjusted his glasses. “I admitted Ruby two years early on the grounds of how well she composed herself while fending off one of Torchwick’s robberies.”

“I saw the video on that,” Cardin said, “And I wasn’t impressed. If Goodwitch hadn’t been there, Ruby would’ve died. Fact is, Ruby was barely ready from a combat perspective, and she was two years behind the other curriculum, yet you let her in anyways.”

“That is odd,” Ironwood said, his voice laden with suspicion.

Ozpin scowled. “I had full faith in Ruby’s abilities, and her grades prove my point.”

Cardin smiled and waved his hand dismissively. “Sure, whatever you say. My point still remains.”

“I fail to see your point, as you have yet to explain how this relates to Mount Glenn.”

Cardin made a show of turning towards Ruby and asked her, “Do you remember what happened precisely before you blacked out?”

Ruby shrank under his gaze, but she said, “Well, there was that girl, and Grimm everywhere, and I saw one about to get Blake. I panicked, and everything went white, then a bunch of rocks hit me.”

“What did you feel when everything went white?”

Ozpin looked ready to step in, but he bit back his comment. Ruby thought for a moment and said, “It felt like my eyes were on fire. I – I was scared of losing Blake, more scared than I had ever been in my life. I could feel my hands shaking from it.” She looked at her hands and rubbed them on her shirt. “Uh, I think that’s it?”

“And afterwards,” Cardin pressed, “You had more eye pain and had to wear a blindfold.”

“So, you’re saying my eyes–” She stopped and stared at the Headmaster, realization dawning on her face. “The first thing you ever said to me. I have silver eyes.”

“I don’t see why that matters,” Ironwood said. “Winter’s eyes are silver-”

“Not a true silver, sir,” Winter said, “More of a bluish-gray. Ruby’s eyes are silver.” She put emphasis on the color.

“Why wouldn’t I remark on it?” Ozpin said defensively. “It’s an uncommon trait.”

“Ironwood, could you take me and Ruby to see Weiss?” Cardin asked. “There’s something I’d like to try.”

Ironwood regarded Ozpin with a grim expression. Ozpin’s mouth worked silently for a moment before he said, “You can’t possibly buy into this ludicrous story of his, James.”

“On the contrary,” Ironwood said as he stood. “I don’t see the harm in testing Cardin’s theory. If it really is just a ludicrous story, then no harm will come of it.” He went to the door and opened it. “Weiss is just down the hall. Let’s go.”

As Ruby and Cardin went towards the door, Ozpin leapt out of his chair. “Wait!” His cry sliced through the air, leaving silence in its wake. Ruby and Cardin froze where they were, Ruby with a look of frightened curiosity, and Cardin with a victorious grin.

“Well?” Cardin asked. “Do you have something to say?”

“You are all making a grave mistake,” Ozpin said, his voice as dark and flinty as a shard of obsidian.

“Really? You think it would be a better idea to kill Weiss?”

“Weiss’ death would be meaningless compared to the number of lives that could be saved otherwise.”

“I wonder what Jacques would think of that.” Cardin took his Scroll out of his pocket and held it up for the Headmaster. His face went ashen as he saw the recording in progress. Cardin stopped the recording and tapped Ruby on the shoulder. “Let’s go.”

As they were about to leave, Ozpin said, “There were many silver-eyed warriors, once.”


	44. Silver Eyes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I woke up two hours late yesterday because I had silenced my phone for a meeting and forgot to unsilence it. Thankfully, it didn’t make me miss work or anything, but the extra sleep didn’t even leave me feeling refreshed. I feel cheated out of those two hours.
> 
> I also have an update on the cover art – just got shown the first draft on it. Hopefully it’ll be done soon! I’ll leave artist credits on first and next chapter after I post it.

\----------

Ozpin’s voice was hollow and soft, tickling the edges of Cardin’s ears. Its gravity drew him and Ruby back into the room, and Ironwood shut the door behind them. “It was they that led mankind out of the darkness, banishing the Grimm with their powers and protecting the settlements in their infancy. Under their watch, mankind flourished, learning to harness Dust and drive back the Grimm themselves. Over time, they no longer needed the silver-eyes, and in time, the admiration mankind had held for them turned to envy and fear. The silver-eyes were driven out, cast into the wilds, or sent on suicide missions. Some were hunted, and some were shunned, leaving their bloodline to die with them.”

Ruby trembled at the account. She sat back down and asked, “What happened?”

Ozpin shook his head. “They vanished. There hadn’t been a silver-eyed warrior for centuries, not since before the four Kingdoms. At least, not until one came to Beacon sixty years ago. I – my predecessor Oswald knew her for what she was and protected her secret, knowing she would be assassinated if anyone learned of what she could do. In time, that someone became one of the greatest Huntress who had ever lived, slaying Grimm and saving lives across the continents. Many towns owe their existence to her, as do many of the citizens of the kingdoms who rely on the crops they grow.” His tone darkened. “Unfortunately, someone must have spotted her using her ability, or had known the lost history, someone who wanted her bloodline to disappear once again. She was cornered during a mission by a group of assassins, and while she slew them all, they had taken her eyes. She could never banish Grimm again.”

“I take it this Huntress had a child?” Ironwood asked.

Ozpin nodded. “My predecessor was careful to conceal their existence. He related the identity of this person only to myself.”

“My mom,” Ruby said.

“Yes. This time, I made sure not to tell her anything, so she wouldn’t be tempted to use her powers. I had hoped that, in time, the silver-eyed warriors could return to Remnant, and with modern technology, drive back the Grimm once and for all.”

“Didn’t she die too?” Cardin asked.

Tears welled up in Ruby’s eyes. She hugged the cloak close to her face and asked, “She died because of the Grimm. Would she be alive now if you had told her?”

“Perhaps,” Ozpin said, “But more likely, she would have died before having you, and the bloodline may have been lost forever.”

“You don’t know that!” Ruby vanished in a flash of rose petals, appearing next to Ozpin. She grabbed him by the collar of his coat and shook him. “How many more people could she have saved if you told her the truth?”

“How many more would have been saved if I had forbidden her from becoming a Huntress?” Ozpin countered, prying Ruby’s hands off him. “What if, instead, I had instructed her to raise as large a family as possible, so a future generation could purge the whole continent of Grimm?”

“What are you going to make me do that?”

“For the sake of Remnant, I might have to.”

Ruby backed away, an expression of horror and disgust twisting her face. Blake stood and put herself in front of Ruby, arms spread out as if protecting her. “That’s horrible!”

“That’s reality. Do you think I want to do any of this?” Ozpin regarded each of the students in turn. “Do you think I want to teach you, raise you, watch you come into my school, only to be sent out to slay Grimm until they destroy you? My job is to keep you all safe, and I will do whatever is necessary to make that happen.”

“What if we don’t want to be safe?” Ruby asked. “What if it’s not worth it?”

“You can’t be there for someone when you’re dead,” Ozpin said grimly. “How do you think Yang would feel if an assassin slit your throat because of your eyes? Your father? I’ve consoled countless grieving families who had me to blame for the death of their loved ones. I’ve stood over countless graves, giving variations on the same departing words until they all blur together. Nothing is worth more than human life, and I will make the decisions that preserve as much of it as I can.” He put his hands gently on Ruby’s shoulders. “If I have to let one person die to save a thousand, I will. I have to let a thousand die to save one life, knowing that the one life will go on to save a million, I will.”

“That’s…” Ruby stammered, face reddening. “That’s awful!”

“He’s got a point,” Cardin said. “Being able to turn Grimm to stone just by looking at them would make expanding the settlements a lot easier. Considering that there are well-funded individuals using Grimm to achieve their goals, I wouldn’t be surprised if you became a target.”

Ozpin gave him a raised eyebrow. “You don’t care about that, or you would’ve kept this to yourself.”

“What can I say? I think Ruby has the right to know.”

“That, or you’re hoping to keep Mr. Schnee as a benefactor. Rather difficult to do that if Weiss ends up dead.”

“Can’t it be both?”

“Enough,” Ironwood growled. He flung open the door, which he had closed as Ozpin told the history of silver eyes. “If we’re going to do this, it better be before Weiss wakes up.”

Ozpin rose, towering over Ruby until his shadow covered her. “Ruby, if you do this, our enemies will almost certainly realize what you are, and if they do that, I cannot protect you. They will kill you.”

Ruby drew herself up and straightened out her cloak. Her hands tightened around the piece of tattered cloth around her neck. “I’m not going to let my friend die.”

Ozpin stared down at her for a moment. His knuckles were bone-white from clutching his cane, but his arms didn’t twitch a muscle. After a moment, he sighed and tapped his cane on the floor. “Very well, let’s go.” He went to the door and passed the General. They exchanged sour glares and a curt nod. “The rest of you will leave with Winter. Ruby will return once this is over.”

Winter bolted up and went to the door. “Sirs, with all due respect, I won’t leave my sister. Please let me stay.”

Ozpin looked back at Ironwood. The General studied his Specialist for a moment and nodded. “I understand. You may accompany us, but the moment we are done, you are taking the students back to Beacon.”

Winter smiled uneasily and bowed her head. Cardin walked up to Ruby’s side and crossed his arms at Ozpin. “I’m seeing this through as well. I’d like to have a first-hand account for Weiss’ father.”

“We cannot allow that,” Ozpin said. “No one outside this room must know what we are doing here.”

“Jacques can be a powerful ally,” Cardin said. “He has little influence in Vale, but he can lend Ironwood more Lien and Dust.”

“And he can keep the senators off my back.” Ironwood tapped the doorframe, filling the silence with loud thunks. “I think Cardin is right.” In a low undertone, he added, “Jacques knows most of my secrets anyways.”

“What’s going to stop him from selling this information to the highest bidder?” Ozpin asked.

“Common interest,” Cardin said. “I’m sure that Mr. Schnee will be very eager to hear of a way to clear an entire area of Grimm to establish defenses for new mining operations.”

Ozpin studied Cardin warily. “I imagine you intend to make a recording?”

“How else could I get him to believe me?”

The Headmaster ground his teeth. “Fine, but I will be present when you send the footage, and you will delete it once you have no further use for it.”

“I’ll reserve us a room at the CCT.”

As they went to leave, Blake came after them. “I want to see as well.”

“Blake, you cannot–”

“I want to know the truth.” With a glare at Cardin, she said, “I’m not believing a word that comes out of his mouth until I see it.” As an afterthought, she added, “Besides, I’m Weiss’ teammate.”

Ozpin sighed and rolled his eyes. “I suppose all of you will be joining us, then?”

The remaining students exchanged looks and shook their heads, except for Jaune, who tentatively rose. “Maybe you’ll need me? I mean, my Semblance does heal people.”

“Very well.” Ozpin examined the small crowd following him to the medical room and dryly observed, “I don’t think the doctor will approve of this many visitors at once.”

“He will make an exception,” Ironwood replied absently, having missed the joke.

When they arrived at the medic’s office, the doctor watching Weiss took one look at the collection of somber faces in the doorway and bolted out of the room. Cardin sat up on a counter, nudging a tray of medical implements out of the way, and took out his Scroll, checking the lighting and the angle. He pulled out its stand and propped it in position, leaving his arms free to grab the counter.

Weiss lay on the bed, eyes closed, breathing easily. Winter stepped forward, hand reaching for her, but she drew back, glancing at the General. Weiss twitched once, groaning in her sleep, and everyone in the room held their breaths.

“Okay,” Ruby said, stepping up to Weiss’ bed, “What do I do?”

Ozpin shut the door and looked everyone over before clearing his throat. “All I know is that the power comes forth at times of great peril. The desire to protect, to save life, is what drives it. Think very hard about saving your friend’s life, and your eyes will do the rest.”

Ruby stared down at Weiss, contorting her face in a variety of comical positions, crossing her eyes and fluttering her eyelids, all to no avail. After a minute of forcing her eyelids open, she staggered back, blinking away tears.

“Nothing’s happening!” Ruby cried. “Why won’t it work?”

“I should have warned you this might happen,” Ozpin said. “It takes discipline and experience to use this ability on command, years of training that you don’t have.”

“But we have to save Weiss now!”

“It might not be possible.” Ozpin put a hand on Ruby’s shoulder, drawing her back. “I am sorry, Ruby, but staying here puts us all in danger.”

“I’m not leaving! Either tell me what I’m doing wrong, or just go.” Tears ran down Ruby’s face as she tore away Ozpin’s hand. “I’m not leaving.”

Ozpin took a deep breath and stepped back. “I will have the doctor bring more anesthetic. We can keep her under for a few days, but after that, we’ll have to face facts.”

As the Headmaster walked out of the room, Ruby sank to her knees, crying into the paper sheet covering Weiss’ mattress. Winter walked up to her and patted her on the back.

“I know you tried your best,” Winter said, holding back tears of her own. “Thank you.”

“But I wasn’t good enough!” Ruby wailed. “I couldn’t save her!”

“You haven’t given up yet, have you? Ozpin gave you a few more days. Stand up and try again. Even if it doesn’t work, at least you’ll have given it everything you had.”

Sniffling and wiping her face on her sleeve, Ruby rose and examined her friend.

“Maybe imagining the Grimm would help,” Cardin offered. “I could give a pretty terrifying description.”

Before Ruby could answer him, Weiss’ eyes opened. Her eyes darted back and forth, taking in the room and its occupants. Her eyes narrowed when she saw Ironwood. “I see. You’re the ones that captured me.”

Glyphs sprang up around her, bluish-white in color. Winter’s eyes widened, and she drew her rapier. “Get back Ruby!”

Glowing white Nevermore, about the size of crows, darted out from the glyphs and dove straight for Ironwood. Winter sliced two out of the air, while Ironwood drew a pistol from his coat and shot the third. The Nevermore vanished as the weapons passed through them, but more Glyphs, both the pale summoning Glyphs and darker manipulation Glyphs, fell like snowflakes from the ceiling.

A pulsating black one brushed against Winter’s shoulder, and she was thrown against the far wall, smacking her head hard enough to leave a dent in a metal cabinet. Her rapier rolled out of her hands. One Nevermore latched onto Ironwood’s pistol while another clawed at his face. Ironwood’s arm swatted the summoned Grimm with superhuman speed, scattering white motes in the air, but more flew in from every direction.

The storm of Glyphs hadn’t left the students untouched as well. Jaune was balled up on the floor, shielding himself with his arms as his Aura weathered the raking claws of two Nevermore. Blake nimbly leapt over medical equipment, reaching for a surgical saw, but when she touched a black Glyph, it rocketed her past her mark, right into the waiting claws of a miniature Beowolf. It tore her ribbon to shreds as it clawed at her head.

A Nevermore went after Cardin, but he snatched up a scalpel and drove it into its neck. The blade passed through without resistance, but the Summon faded away. As a black Glyph drifted towards him, he leapt over it, landing at the side of Weiss’ bed. Her eyes widened, and her face tensed. Another pale Glyph sprang up next to him, but Cardin broke it before anything could appear.

A summoning Glyph appeared over her head, and it grew wider and wider until it swallowed up the ceiling. The point of a sword jabbed out from it, slicing down at Ruby’s head. Red petals swirled around her as she raced back. The sword reached for her, forcing itself further and further out with each slash, but Ruby nimbly avoided each attack. Soon, a hand appeared, followed by an arm. A second hand, bearing a shield, pushed through the Glyph, and a helmeted head loomed out of the ceiling.

Sweat dampened Cardin’s hands, and he nearly dropped the scalpel as his hands shook. He glanced at the door, listening for Ozpin’s footsteps, but there was no sign of him or the anesthetic. Ironwood had beaten back the Nevermores and reclaimed his gun, but the Knight threw its shield, pinning his right arm against a wall. Ruby leapt forward, trying to reach Weiss’ bed, but the giant sword kept her away. Each time she leapt around the bed, the sword swerved to stop her advance.

When the sword was on the other side of Weiss’ bed, Cardin leaned forward, the scalpel gripped in his hand. The sword slashed at him as the Scarab in Weiss’ head saw the new threat. Cardin plunged the scalpel down, slamming it into Weiss’ Aura. The translucent barrier held, but it buckled underneath the force of the blow. He pushed his Semblance into his arms, adding all his weight and more to the scalpel. Thin cracks leapt through Weiss’ Aura as it bowed inward, letting the point get closer and closer to Weiss’ cold, listless eyes. The summoned sword cut into his Aura, but he grit his teeth and pushed on through the pain.

Ruby’s eyes widened as she saw the point of Cardin’s scalpel brush Weiss’ eyelashes. With a heart-rending scream, she leapt towards Weiss, eyes blazing like twin suns. Cardin froze as a wave of blinding light washed over him.

When he rubbed away the tears and flashing lights, he saw Ruby, standing taller than life above Weiss’s bed, looking down with incandescent eyes the color of the shattered moon. The Glyphs and Summons had frozen in place, each flickering like a faulty Scroll.

“Get out,” Ruby said. Her voice had an air of command that made Cardin shiver.

Weiss’ back arched, and one eye was squeezed aside. The Scarab crawled out, stumbling over itself and screeching as black motes drifted from its dissolving carapace. The glow in Ruby’s eyes brightened, and the Grimm howled as it fell apart, vanishing into thin air. Its dying scream echoed a few seconds longer, as though its departing soul was burned to nothing by Ruby’s eyes.

The Glyphs winked out of existence. Ironwood hauled himself onto his feet, holding a hand over the tear in his coat. Blake and Jaune stood together, holding hands as they stared in open-mouthed wonder at Ruby’s power. The scalpel fell from Cardin’s fingers and clattered on the floor, and he stepped back until he hit the counter.

The light faded from Ruby’s eyes. She sank onto the bed and buried her eyes in her arm, saying “Ow” repeatedly, hissing in pain, and asking “Why does that sting so much?”

Weiss blinked, groaned and sat up in the bed. “Ugh,” she said drowsily, “Where am I? How did I get here?”

Ruby jerked up. “Weiss? Is that you?”

“Ruby?” Weiss squinted, struggling to focus on her teammate. “Of course it’s me. What’s going on?”

Ruby leapt forward, snaring her teammate in a tight hug. “Thank goodness, you’re okay!”

“I won’t be if you keep crushing me,” Weiss said, struggling to breathe. “What happened?”

Cardin walked up to her. Weiss smiled for a second before looking away. “What’s the last thing you remember?” he asked.

Weiss frowned. “I remember having breakfast with you and Klein, then my stomach started hurting. I went to the hospital.” She bit her lip and stared up at the ceiling, but after a moment, she shook her head. “That’s it.”

“Does the name Watts mean anything to you?”

Weiss froze. “I think so? I think he was the doctor. He – he strapped me down to a chair. I remember that.”

“What about a beetle?” Cardin asked. “White body, beady red eyes–”

As Cardin started the description, Weiss gasped and grabbed at her face. She gasped for air and scrambled back on her bed. “No, get it away from me!”

Ruby rushed after her, hugging her and stroking her hair. “Ssh, it’s okay, you’re going to be okay Weiss. You’re fine.”

“What,” Weiss stammered, “What the hell was that?”

Cardin briefly explained what he knew about the Scarab. Weiss shrank into the bed and felt at her eyes.

“That – that happened? I had a Grimm inside of me?”

“It’s gone now,” Ruby said. “We got it out.”

“How?”

Cardin looked around for his Scroll. Miraculously, it had stayed upright and had recorded the whole thing. He played it back, skipping past the part where he had nearly gouged out Weiss’ eye, and made a mental reminder to edit out that part before showing Mr. Schnee. He showed Weiss when Ruby’s eyes started glowing. Weiss watched with mingled fascination and disgust as the Grimm crawled out of her eye and died.

Looking up at Ruby in wonder, Weiss asked, “How did you do that?”

Ruby chuckled nervously. “Uh, well, I kind of have magic eye powers, or something?” She turned towards Cardin and smiled. “Cardin figured it out. If it wasn’t for him, Ozpin would’ve uh…” She trailed off, looking uneasily back at Ironwood.

“We can talk about that later,” Cardin said. He felt a wave of panic as Weiss gave him a teary-eyed smile and held his hand.

“Thank you,” Weiss said.

Cardin drew his hand away. “No problem. I’ll go find Ozpin.”

As he walked towards the door, he heard footsteps just outside of the room. He stepped aside as the door opened and Ozpin walked in. The Headmaster took one look at the scratched furniture, scattered papers and instruments, Winter’s body, still slumped against the wall, and Ruby’s smiling face before setting the bottle in his hands on a counter.

“I take it Miss Schnee has been cured?” he asked, looking at Cardin. When he nodded back, Ozpin walked up to Ruby and looked into her eyes. Ruby blinked and leaned away, darting looks at Cardin and Weiss as Ozpin’s face came within an inch of her own.

“We need to get you all back to Beacon,” the Headmaster said. He turned towards Jaune, who was examining the scratches on Blake’s head, and asked, “Could you treat Winter? It looks as though she took a rather nasty fall.”

Jaune gave a start and looked at Weiss’ sister. A trickle of blood had pooled up next to her cheek, but she was breathing calmly. Jaune put a hand on her shoulder, and light flowed down his arm and into her. Moments later, Winter’s eyes fluttered and she clambered to her feet, clutching her bloodied head.

“Is Weiss okay?” she mumbled, leaning against the wall.

“I’m fine,” Weiss said back. “What happened to you?”

In response, Cardin rewound the video. Weiss watched with wide eyes as Summoning Glyphs sprang up around her.

“How did I do that?” she asked, pointing at one of the pale Glyphs.

“You just kind of did it,” Ruby said.

“That’s not fair! I can’t summon anything no matter how hard I try, but some Grimm stuck in my head can? Why can’t I remember any of it?”

“I’m sure you will figure it out later. Right now, we really need to get back to Beacon. There’s a lot you missed.”

“Ruby is right,” Ozpin said, stepping in. “I will explain everything I can once we’re back at Beacon. In the meantime, do not speak with anyone.” To Winter he said, “Make sure no one approaches her. We don’t need this spiraling out of our control.”

Her eyes darted to Ironwood, who nodded. “Yes sir. I will take care of them.”

“Thank you.” Ozpin tapped Cardin on the shoulder as he left and held him back as the others went out. “As for you, Mr. Winchester, we will have to discuss what you have done in further detail, before we speak with Jacques.” With a sly smile, he added, “I look forward to seeing you volunteer for the upcoming soup kitchen four times a week.”

The emphasis on the number left no doubt that the Headmaster had adjusted Cardin’s punishment. He hid a grimace with a curt nod, tightened the overshirt of his student’s uniform, and went out the door. Cardin thought about lingering outside the door, to see if he could hear what words might be exchanged between the General and the Headmaster, but Winter’s stern command drew him towards the waiting Bullhead.

Once the students were gone, Ironwood and Ozpin were left alone in the doctor’s office. After he checked the hallway, ensuring they were alone, Ozpin noticed the cut in Ironwood’s coat and examined the bionic arm underneath.

“How is it?” Ozpin asked.

“Nothing was damaged,” the General said. His expression soured. “When were you planning to tell me about Ruby?”

“I wasn’t,” the Headmaster admitted. “It was not something you needed to know, and it’s easier to keep a secret when fewer people know about it. Only Qrow and I were aware of it, or at least, I had hoped.”

Ironwood’s metal hand slammed on the counter, leaving a dent. “We could have studied her gift, maybe found a way to replicate it. Imagine if we could build that ability into our Knights and Paladins, if we could build a whole army that could banish Grimm just by looking at them!”

“I asked Djinn about it. The silver eyes came from the Brother of Light and to tamper with them is beyond even my abilities. The Relic of Creation couldn’t make its equal. Speaking of which…”

“You know the war against the Grimm has been at a standstill for decades. If we don’t act, we’re just asking to be wiped off the map.”

“Using the Relics is exactly what Salem wants us to do. Once the Relics leave the vaults, she can take them and use them herself.”

“Which is why,” Ironwood said, “We should take the fight to her. If the Relics can end the war, let’s end it on our terms. Just one of the Relics could let us reclaim a continent, imagine what we could do with all four at once!”

“Humanity is not ready.” Ozpin sighed and took off his glasses, examining the lenses. “If we tried to bring the Relics together, humanity would be destroyed as surely as if Salem had them herself.”

“Then when will we be ready?”

For a long moment, the Headmaster had no answer. He put his glasses back on, twirled his cane in his hand, and answered wistfully, “I don’t know, but standing around here chatting won’t get us any closer to it.” He opened the door and beckoned out with his cane. “Let’s go, James. We have work to do.”


End file.
